Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Hawk
“I gotta say, that motherfucker has balls,” Rafe announced. It had only been a few days since he’d been shot, but he wasn’t the kind of man who’d let a couple of bullet wounds slow him down. His shoulder was up in a sling and he was moving a little slower than usual, but Rafe looked like he was holding his own as he stood outside of one of Shotgun’s rooms. Miller’s tortured cries were penetrating into the hallway as Shotgun continued to work him over, and a mischievous smile crossed his face as Rafe motioned his head towards the door. “Well, at least he had ’em. After that round of screaming I just heard, I’m not so sure anymore.”
“I take it Miller’s not talking?”
“Fuck no, but from the sounds of it, he’ll be singing like a canary before long.”
“I hope you’re right about that.”
“Me, too.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if I can stomach much more of this shit.”
“Rough in there?”
“Fuck, yeah. Dude looks like he’s been through a fucking meat grinder. Turns my stomach just thinking about it.” A pained expression crossed Rafe’s face as he continued, “Hell, I would’ve started spilling it the second I saw Shotgun coming at me with a fucking sledge hammer, but this guy’s being all stubborn and shit. He hasn’t said a fucking word about what went down with the take.”
“Gotta wonder why he’s trying so hard to keep it under wraps.”
“I was thinking the same fucking thing.”
The screams continued, and I was considering going in to check on things when Viper and Axel walked up. I figured they were like me and eager to find out if Shotgun had managed to get him to talk, and I had no doubt that they’d both be just as disappointed as I was that Miller still hadn’t. Viper turned to me as he asked, “Anything?”
“Not a word.”
“Fuck,” he grumbled. “I’m about fed up with this bullshit.”
“I’m sure Shotgun feels the same. He’s been at it all fucking night.”
“I think I’ve got something that might help,” Menace interrupted as he come rushing up the hall. As he offered Viper a folder, he told him, “Here’s the information you wanted on Miller.”
Viper opened the folder, and after reading it over for a moment, he said, “It’s time to put an end to this shit once and for all.”
Without a moment’s hesitation he reached for the doorknob, and as he opened it, we were all hit with a foul odor of vomit mixed with shit. It was enough to turn my stomach, but the smell was nothing compared to the sight of Miller. Much like Danny, he was strung up with his hands over his head, but he was sitting with his feet bound to the legs of a chair. I had to fight back my gag reflexes as I looked down at his bare feet and shins. They were all broken and mangled from where Shotgun had worked him over with the sledgehammer, and I found it doubtful that Miller would ever walk again. His face was barely recognizable, and I was surprised that the guy was not only conscious but seemed completely aware of his surroundings. Viper grabbed a chair from the corner and took it over to Miller. As he sat down in front of him, he open the folder and said, “Scott Miller. Son of Donna and Hamilton Miller. 129 Tigrett Street, Texarkana, Arkansas. Age thirty-four.”
“Yeah...so?”
“Nicole Miller. Daughter of Scott Miller. Age seven. Living at ...”
Before Viper could finish, Miller spat, “What the fuck does my daughter have to do with this shit?”
“That is entirely up to you.” Viper held up the folder, showing Miller the picture Menace found of his daughter. “Cute kid. Sure would hate to see anything happen to her.”
“Look here, motherfucker. If you lay one finger on her, I’ll kill you! I’ll kill every last fucking one of you!” Miller barked, making it clear Viper had hit a nerve.
“I think we both know you’re in no position to make threats, so why don’t you just save us both some trouble and tell us what we want to know.” Viper closed the folder and leaned back in his chair. “Otherwise, me and my boys are gonna make another trip to Arkansas, and that sweet little girl of yours is going to find out what monsters are really made of.”
“Fuck you!”
“All right, then. Have it your way.”
Viper stood, and when he started towards the door, Miller shouted, “It was me. I’m the one who did it.”
“Any particular reason why it was our shipment you decided to fuck with?”
“I didn’t know it was yours. I just get the orders and fill ’em. I figured since it was such a big take, no one would be the wiser.”
“You thought we wouldn’t notice that over half of it was fucking trash?” Viper went over and reached for his throat, gripping it tightly as he growled, “The Ruthless Sinners don’t deal fucking trash, asshole. Not now. Not ever.”