Whereas I’m too scared to tell him what David did because he taught me I deserved it. That I asked for it by staying. That normal people don’t let themselves get broken like that.
Maybe we’re both just learning how to stop being ashamed of the parts of ourselves other people convinced us were wrong.
Chapter 18
Alexei
Iscratch the side of my head with the tip of the gun, then drop my hand and click my tongue. “Just tell me the name of the retired detective, and I’ll kill you quick. I’ve got other plans today.”
Three men sit slumped in the chairs with arms yanked behind their backs and ankles duct-taped to the legs. I’ve worked them over good for the past hour. I’m bored now.
I know something’s wrong with Kelly. Something happened to him, and he won’t tell me.
I still catch him flinching, still see him shrink when he thinks he’s in trouble. He doesn’t trust me with it. That hurts more than getting shot did. But I’ll wait. However long he needs. Even if it kills me.
These Nozares rats in front of me just happen to be on my father’s list so I’m multitasking.
“We don’t know anything,” one of them blurts.
“We don’t have names for you. All we know is someone’s been giving up locations, tipping off raids before they happen.”
I sigh and roll my neck to work out the tension. “See, why didn’t you say that an hour ago? You could’ve kept your fingers, maybe even a toe or two.”
“Please,” another one begs, voice hoarse from screaming.
“We told you everything.”
I open my mouth to answer, but stop when my phone buzzes. I check the screen and see Kelly’s name.
I push myself up slowly and look down at them. “Here’s how this is going to go. I’m going to answer this phone. You’re going to stay silent. If I hear anything, I swear to God I will make your death a fucking art piece. You understand?”
One of them lets out a pathetic whimper, so I raise my eyebrows at him. His mouth snaps shut, and he stares at the floor.
I drop into the chair, lean back, and rest the gun on my thigh, then put the phone to my ear.
“Zaychik.”
He clears his throat. “I hope this isn’t a bad time. I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Did something happen?”
“No. Just a terrible day, and my boss isn’t helping.”
“What’s his name?”
One of the men shifts in his chair. I lift the gun slightly without looking away from his face. He freezes.
“Nice try. I know exactly what you’re doing, and I’m not telling you.”
He could list every person who’s ever annoyed him. I’d handle every single one of them without blinking. But fine.
“How was your day at the office?” he asks, trying to change the subject.
“Productive. Had those client meetings we discussed.”
Then it starts. One of the bastards in front of me starts whimpering again, this wet little cry like he forgot where he is and what’s about to happen to him.
I sigh and shoot him in the head. The sound echoes through the room. Blood spatters across my boots and onto the two stillbreathing. I glance down at the mess, then raise my eyebrows at the survivors like go ahead, fucking try me. They both look down immediately, silent.
