Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
The good news is that the guy lives alone. I tighten my finger on the trigger and walk into the lounge. A gorilla of a man sits on a brown corduroy sofa, facing an old CRT television. An empty pizza box lies open at his feet. The man gives a start. He reaches for something under the sofa, but I’m pressing the barrel of the gun against his temple and stepping on his hand before he can grab what he’s looking for.
He utters a cry of pain. “The fuck?”
Crunching the heel of my boot down on his knuckles, I kick the shotgun he was reaching for away with my other foot.
“You fucking broke my hand,” he whimpers.
I lift my boot. “That was the idea. Do I need to break anything else?”
Knowing how this works, he cradles his injured hand against his vest-clad chest and glares at me. “No.”
“Good. You’re ex-military.”
He narrows his eyes. “Mercenary.”
“My point is I’m not taking any chances. Move, and I’ll shoot you in the knee. I’m not in the mood for a fight, so save us both the trouble. If you give me what I want, I won’t have to leave you with a bullet in your kidney, bleeding out on this nice, snazzy sofa.”
“The fuck you want?”
“Something you shouldn’t have taken. Since you don’t have much of value in this dump, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and deduce you have enough brain cells to know what it is.”
He sneers. “That bitch sent you?”
I push the barrel harder, indenting the pale skin of his temple. “What bitch would that be?”
“There’s only one bitch rich enough to pay a collector. Must be that Gia chick.”
“You do have some intelligence after all. I want the video you took.”
He laughs, turning his face so that the barrel is pointing straight between his eyes. “Why would I give you shit?”
I knew he was going to be a tough bastard. Scum like him doesn’t scare easily. “How much did Elliot pay you?”
He spits the words at me. “None of your fucking damn business.”
“You didn’t think it through, did you? It seems you’re not so clever.”
“Say what you came here to say or pull the trigger,” he snarls. “I’m giving you jack shit.”
“Do you know who Gia Starley is?”
“A rich, pretty, bored chick.”
“As much as I hate being a sexist prick, let me define her status for you by name of her husband. She’s Mrs. Gus Starley.”
“So?” He rocks back and forth, clutching his wrist. His right hand is quickly swelling to the size of a cricket ball. “Who gives a damn?”
“You should give a damn. Gus Starley is the big boss of the IT mafia. If you’re not familiar with his reputation, just follow the trail of bodies linked to his name.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
The guy is fucking slow. “Where’s your phone?”
“In my pocket.”
“Take it out. No tricks, or I’ll blow off your trigger finger.”
He shoves his good hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone with some effort.
“Type the name in your browser,” I instruct. “See what comes up.”
Keeping one eye on me, the idiot does as I ordered. His pale skin turns even whiter as he looks at his screen.
“Why do you think Elliot Starley paid you to sleep with his stepmother and film it?”
The guy gapes like a fish out of water. “To blackmail her for money?”
I laugh. If Violet and I weren’t involved, his stupidity would’ve been funny. “He’s blackmailing someone, all right. If he doesn’t get what he wants, he’s going to show that video to Gus Starley. What do think will happen when he does?” I trace the pleats in his forehead with the barrel. “He’ll kill his cheating wife—torture her to death, for sure—and then what?”
The guy’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“Yeah,” I say. “Then he’s coming for you. So, as you can see, it’s in both of our interests that you give me that video.”
“What are you going to do with it?” he asks, his voice hoarse.
“Destroy it. Make sure Gus never sees it.”
“What about Elliot?”
“You’re not scared of a wimp like him, are you? I’ll deal with Elliot.”
He drags his tongue over his teeth. “You some kind of IT boffin?”
“You could say so.”
“I already sent the video to Elliot. He asked me to hold onto it until he needed it. Seems like that day was yesterday.”
“Yeah.” I chuckle. “The shit is about to hit the fan.”
He shifts in his seat. “The video is on here.” Lifting the phone, he turns it from side to side. “But I’m still not giving you jack shit. I’ll get rid of it myself.”
I hold out my hand. “I’ll delete it. You can watch.”
He hesitates for a second before handing over the phone. Indenting my finger on the trigger, I let the threat speak for itself while I access his photo albums. After locating the video, I delete it from his phone and from his trash folder. Then I send his number to my phone.