Page 128 of Little Sunshine
Another drag along the rough wall before I turned him. “Some what?”
“That scrawny bitch was hanging out on a fucking street corner where all the other whores in the world work.” His eyes darted to Maximo before returning to me. I thought he’d put the pieces together, but the two-piece puzzle was clearly beyond his shit-for-brain capabilities. His throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously. “Look, if she’s one of your girls, my bad. But she didn’t have any money on her. So if that bitch said I took it?—”
Using my hold on his shirt, I pulled him away and slammed his head against the wall. His eyes went unfocused before he rapidly blinked.
“She”—I slammed him against the wall again, though lighter that time since I didn’t want him losing consciousness—“isn’t a honey-ass tweaker. She”—another slam—“isn’t a whore. She”—one last one before I released him to collapse in a heap—“is my fucking woman.”
“I didn’t know, I swear. I thought it was an easy score of her bankroll.”
“Did that require touching her?” My voice was calm. Even. “Are you such a weak little bitch that robbing a small woman required you to beat on her first? Or were you compensating for your tiny dick when you grabbed her tits so hard, they bruised?”
“I didn’t know, man. I didn’t know,” he rushed out.
Not that he was sorry. Not that he regretted touching her. Just that he didn’t know she was mine.
The world is about to be a better place.
Tears and snot mixed on his face as the gravity of his situation finally penetrated his thick skull. Or maybe it was the concussion. It didn’t matter anyway.
I stepped back and met Cole’s gaze. He started typing out a message without me having to say anything.
Sick minds think alike.
Knowing it was handled, I turned toward the table and swung my gaze to the other man—Ronald Jacobs—who still sat in the chair. A sharp, metallic tang in the air grew stronger, and I glanced down to see his wrists were dripping blood as he worked to dislodge himself.
“Going somewhere?” I asked.
His beady eyes darted between me and the slumped man on the floor. He hesitated for a few seconds, like he wanted to protect his friend. That kind of stupid loyalty would’ve been commendable had he placed it with someone who deserved it.
And had they not come after my woman.
His sense of preservation kicked in, and he flipped. “I didn’t do nothing.”
“The double negatives,” Cole muttered.
Jacobs didn’t correct his grammar as he repeated, “I didn’t do nothing. It was all Ez. He said that girl was an easy hit and then we could party big that night. He was the one who touched her. Not me. I just kept watch, but I didn’t touch her, I swear.”
“You pathetic nobody,” Zale started, standing up and moving forward like he was going to attack. When Maximo blocked the way, the dumbass was smart enough to launch himself back against the wall. He kept spewing his insults, though. “You’re nothing, and you’d be less than nothing if it weren’t for me. Dead in some gutter, and no one would notice.”
I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my black kit.
I came from a family of overachievers. We’d all inherited trust funds from my paternal grandparents that we could live on but didn’t. My dad had been a judge and my mom had been a professor before they’d retired—though Ma still did guest lectures when bribed or flattered enough. My four sisters were competitive among themselves. Violet was a nurse. Maggie owned a restaurant in New York. Emily was a CFO of a media company in California. And Andrea was a chemist.
One who headed a facility with a lot of funding and very little oversight.
I pulled an already loaded single dose shot from the kit and tapped it against the table. “The fact of the matter is, my woman ended up bruised. Cut. Hurt. So one of you will pay.” I set it on the table and stepped back. “You two can decide yourselves.”
Zale didn’t have the same battle with loyalty that Jacobs had. There was no hesitation. No delay. Without the cuffs that kept Jacobs in place, he did exactly what I wanted.
He stormed forward, snatched up the needle, and jabbed it in his friend’s arm.
I’d honestly expected him to at least think about stabbing me with it. Or try to use it as a threat against us to free himself. It just confirmed that he was a narcissistic moron.
Jacobs let out a cry. His pale face stayed scrunched as he hyperventilated, his heavy breathing echoing in the silent room. After a minute, he pried his eye open to look at me. He took in my smirk and opened his other eye. He whispered some prayers as tears flowed down his cheeks. “You were just trying to scare us. Holy fuck. That’s all this was. A scare. It worked.” More tears. “It fucking worked.”
“I, uhh, knew that,” Zale tried. “I was just calling their bluff, but I knew nothing would happen?—”
“Fuck offfff.” Jacobs’ voice warbled, his lips turning down. “You’re full of…” Arching in his chair, he winced.
