Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Being the pussies they were, they took off running like they knew why I was there to begin with. They made it about four steps when I nodded to Shawn to shoot them in the legs. They dropped to the concrete, yelling, “Shit!” and trying to crawl away from us.
I didn’t wait, grabbing one of them by his ponytail and dragging his ass over to an old rusty folding chair, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Using cable ties, I secured his hands behind his back and his legs to the chair, and Shawn did the same with the other guy before duct-taping their mouths shut.
I ripped off my head guy’s tape, and he spit out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shuddered in his seat while suspiciously looking around the dark warehouse for I don’t know what.
“Is that right?” I drawled out, slowly walking around to where he was sitting. “Blowin’ smoke up my ass isn’t gonna help your situation.”
“We’ve been doing business with you for a long time. Why would I fuck that up?”
“’Cause you’re a greedy fuck.” Taking the barrel of my gun, I jabbed it into his good kneecap. “Don’t appreciate bein’ lied to, especially to my fuckin’ face,” I scoffed out, pulling the trigger.
“Arggggghhhh!” he screamed in pure agony, struggling to get his hands free.
“That’s for lyin’ to me. There are plenty more where that came from. I suggest you man the fuck up and tell me why you’re traffickin’ my drugs over the border to people who are not my men.” I crouched to his level, getting right up in his face. “So stop feedin’ me your crock of bullshit before I decide I don’t want to play fuckin’ nice anymore.”
“Listen,” he coaxed with a quivering jaw. “I’ve been set up. We only do business with you.”
“Were you only doin’ business with me last week when you tried to steal my drugs and didn’t think I’d find out? You moved twenty kilos of my blow to someone, and I want to know who that is. You honestly think you could get away with stealing my shit? Thought you were smarter than that, and I hate to be proved wrong.”
“Boss, it’s not what it looks like,” he justified, looking me dead in the eyes.
“Oh, so you do know what I'm talkin’ about?”
He opened his mouth to say something, but I backhanded him with the butt of my gun, silencing him. “Give me a name,” I ordered through a clenched jaw.
“Boss, it’s—”
I stood, grabbing him by the back of the head, slamming my knee into his face several times, practically knocking him the fuck out. His head bobbled as he tried to blink through the haze.
“Give me a name,” I demanded, shoving my gun deeper into his skin. “Or you won’t crawl out of here alive,” I gritted out, losing my last bit of patience.
“Please…”
“Ain’t that a bitch?”
His eyes met mine, widening at the realization that I wasn’t bluffing.
“Give me a reason,” I breathed out. “Give me one fuckin’ reason I shouldn’t pull the trigger and lay you the fuck out for betrayin’ and stealin’ from me?”
His chest heaved, and his nostrils flared as his mind was obviously reeling with uncertainty. I cocked the pistol deeper into his forehead, causing his head to jerk back. He swallowed hard, clearing his throat and holding his head up higher. We were used to the theatrics that came along with my interrogations. We didn't pay him any mind as he visibly struggled, trying to get loose. He wasn’t going anywhere unless I wanted him to.
I waited until he tired himself out.
Until there was no fight left inside him.
Until all he could do was roll over and play dead with blood gushing out of him.
I crouched down again, leaning forward close to his face. Cocking my head to the side, I ordered, “Give me a name.” I smiled wide, my eyes wild and crazed. “Does the name Mauricio Felipe ring any bells?”
His eyes widened.
“I’m gonna count to three, and if I don’t get a name, you’re dead.” I abruptly raised my arm, aiming my gun at his boy tied to the chair on his right. “One.” Putting a bullet between his eyes, I blew his fucking head off, blood and brains splattering behind him. “Where can I find him?” I questioned, aiming my gun over at him.
He thrashed around, already knowing his fate.
“Please, enough. Don’t—”
“Two.”
I was done playing games.
I walked over to him, placing the barrel of my gun under his chin. “Last chance, motherfucker.”
Cowering away from me, he closed his eyes tight.
“Thr—”
“Dominican Republic!” he yelled out.
“Who’s his ally?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never met him.”
“What do you know?”
“Not much.”
“Then what?”
“That he answers to someone, too.”
“Who’s that?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know, or you don’t remember?”
I didn’t waver. I aimed the gun at his right inner thigh and pulled the trigger. He screamed out in pain, gasping for air and convulsing right in front of me.