“Fuck off.”
“Wrong answer.”
He loosened his grip enough that Ville could form words. “Fuck off,” Ville spat at him. “I had beatings before, and you aren’t going to kill me. Who’ll tell you where to find Shepherd then?”
Bass reached around and pulled a gun. Not the one Shepherd had given him. That had been used in two gas station holdups and just had to wait for its day in court, but close enough. He pressed it hard into Ville’s groin against his half-done zipper.
“I will blow your fucking cock off.”
Doubt flashed through Ville’s eyes, and then he visibly firmed his resolve. “You wouldn’t.”
“They sent me to fucking Nebraska,” Bass said. He pushed harder against the gun, and Ville squirmed as it dug into soft flesh. “Because of you.”
“And your dad. Nobody shed any tears when you left,” Ville hissed.
Bass pushed up under his chin and forced his head back. “Yeah, but he died. So I can’t have it out with him. That leaves you or Shepherd. Whose cock is more important to you?”
It was the sort of question that helped to focus the mind. Ville closed his eyes, slits against the bruised skin, and Bass thought he might actually pick Shepherd. The smell of fresh piss filled the air.
“I don’t know where he is,” he blurted. He squirmed when Bass moved the gun up so it pushed against the base of his cock. “I swear to fuck, I don’t know. Not for sure. He had me move the trailer, though.”
“Where?”
“Halloran. The old Halloran farm, around the back of the old barn. Jesus Christ, don’t shoot me in the dick, man. I’m telling the truth.”
Bass moved the gun away from his crotch. “You’re a piece of shit, Ville. You know that?”
Sweat stood out in fat, greasy drops on Ville’s face. “Shepherd would have gone down just because some old lady fell over her own slippers. You were a minor. You got juvie. Shepherd would have seen you right when you got out. It’s not our fault you got sent away.”
“I think it was,” Bass said, and he hit Ville over the head with the butt of the gun.
Ville stared at him for a moment in slack surprise. Then his eyes rolled back in his head. His body went limp, and Bass let him slump bonelessly to the ground. There was blood on his gun. He wiped it against his jeans and crouched to pull Ville’s phone out of his pocket. It was locked. Bass grabbed Ville’s hand and pressed his thumb, crooked and black-nailed, against the sensor.
He quickly got into the settings and changed it so it wouldn’t relock. It might come in useful later.
The door creaked. Bass scrambled to his feet gracelessly and aimed his gun at Mick’s face. It wasn’t the first time someone had done that, and the big man was unfazed. He looked at the gun and then down to Ville, battered and in a puddle of his own urine.
“Shit,” he drawled and then looked back up. “What the hell have you done, Bass?”
“Shepherd took Doc,” Bass said. He stepped over Ville’s legs and edged toward the door. “I’m not going to let that go.”
Mick heaved a sigh that puffed out his cheeks. “If the Feds get something on Shepherd, Bass, we’ll get sent up with him. You think the warm feeling of saving your boyfriend is going to do you any good when you’re behind bars for five to ten?”
Lie, truth, or something in the middle? Bass wouldn’t be able to stay under anymore, but Merlo might still be able to use the legend.
“I’m hoping he’s waiting for me when I get out,” Bass said dryly. “He’s a surgeon. If I go straight, he can keep me in the manner I’d like to be accustomed. Move away from the door, Mick.”
They stared at each other for a second, and then Mick decided to do as he was told, held up his hands, and moved obediently out of the way.
“You sure you want to burn this bridge, Bass?”
Bass pointed his chin at Ville. “I think I already took this bridge out,” he said. “Stay here and stay quiet until I leave. Then nobody else gets hurt.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Somebody does. Maybe you.”
Mick leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms. It wasn’t an agreement, but it wasn’t a disagreement either. Mick’s expression was stoic and hard to read. Bass supposed he’d find out what Mick was going to do in a minute.
