Page 8 of Sweet Touch of Venom
His body shifts; he doesn’t think I notice his movements. Tractor makes a go for under his sofa seat, but I grab my gun from my side holster and shoot his hand. There was a gun hidden under it. I already searched his house before retreating into the dark spot in the corner, and it was quite amusing to see he only had two guns in here. One under the seat, and the other in the drawer of his nightstand.
He screeches loudly, gripping his hand, the crimson spilling out instantly.
I hold the gun up. “Is this yours?”
His eyes run wild, and he hollers more.
“Yeah. I’ve already taken the liberty of grabbing the little stash you have.”
“Then why’d you shoot me?” he barks, spit flying through his teeth and landing on my boots. My eyes dart down, disgust swirling in my stomach.
I shrug mindlessly. “Why not?” Then I aim for his kneecaps, shooting them too. He lets out a murderous howl and begins to scream for help.
I shake my head. “No one can hear you.” That’s because we had the few people who do live in this shitty complex leave because of a “water leakage”. I bend down on my knees, placing my forearms on my elbows, looking him in the eyes, sweat now falling down his glistening tan skin and onto his brow. Agony folding over him like paint.
“Now I ask you again,” I say smoothly. “Do you remember me?”
His eyes search my face, and then that’s when it occurs. The Adam’s apple in his throat bobs, and I can see his lips dry. The grin slowly forms on my mouth, and I narrow in.
“But how? You fled.”
My smile drops. “I did.” I tap the muzzle on his open wound, digging into it, the milky red liquid pouring out more. I watch in blind horror, the glory seeping through. Every drop means something, every spill. It’ll be counted nineteen times, the same amount of blood it took for Carters before he finally died.
I continue further until I touch the bone, then I knock on it for fun. He releases a tortured scream, his head crashing back. “I have a question for you. Make a wise choice and answer correctly.” I pull away so he can answer. “Why were you after the blueprints?”
He heaves, his hot breath blowing into my face. I wince away. Disgusting. I push up on my knees to stand. He continues hollowing. I guess the pain hasn’t subsided. I don’t care.
I check my watch. “Speak. Now.” Then I point my gun at the wound, ready to place another bullet in it.Ouch.
His shaky hands fly up, eyebrows raising so high his sweaty forehead wrinkles. “Okay, okay. I don’t know. Our job was to grab you and the other dude, take you both to the storage, get the papers about some shitty vehicle and then for us to get paid we get your money. I don’t know. That’s it!” Spit flings out of his mouth. “Victor wanted those blueprints. Not us!” He chokes.
My throat constricts athisname being thrown in the air so lightly. I twist my head, biting down on my jaw to ignore the itchy feel in my chest. I focus again.
He’s low level, he won’t have the answers. I’m sure he only does the kidnapping and doesn’t even know the real point of it. The only thing he worries about is the money. It’s a waste thinking he knew something.
Tears streamed down his face. “Don’t kill me man, I have a family.”
I shut my eyes. The irises rolling tight to the back of my head. Why do they think saying that will bring sympathy? I look at him. “You’re married?”
He hesitates. “Divorced.”
“How many kids?”
“T-two. A girl, a-and a boy.”
Nausea rises in my belly. I lean down to look him in his bloodshot eyes while his sweat drips off the lashes. “Your ex-wife had the right idea, divorcing you. She’s lucky, and your kids would thank me. I’ll make sure to send them everything single thing you've done so they’ll hate you and spit on your grave. I’m doing your family a favor.” He freezes, his neck tightening, showing the collar bone. “You should’ve killed me that night.”I slip my gun back into the holster and toss his to the side, then I grab his collar, carelessly dragging him off the couch, intentionally dropping him on his damaged knee.
A buzzing vibrates against my thigh, stopping me from my moment. I release a harsh breath as I'm rummaging in my pocket while keeping hold of the dead weight in the other, I press the phone to my ear. “What?”
“You’re needed at the compound. Bedford found some information. You’re gonna want to see this,” Chris speaks boldly on the other end.
“I’m in the middle of something,” I grit, dropping him on the floor; he groans slowly, turning to his side.
“Apologies. Bedford is eager.” Chris’ voice is wary, they know not to intervene, so if they are calling me, then… it must be important.
Reaching to my holster, I get my gun again, letting out an exasperated breath. “I’ll be there.”
I turn to the man on the ground, attempting to crawl to the door, his loose legs dragging behind him. “Looks like the fun is over.” I take a gaping step, kicking him over to fall on his back.
