“You mean when she went out for breakfast with me, or last night?”
I had learned a few tricks working for the mob. One was to always keep quiet if someone gave you information you didn’t know already, like now for example. I had no fucking idea what he was talking about, but pieces were sliding into place.
“She didn’t tell you about last night, did she?” he smirked at me again and this time I moved towards him, comforted by the fear that flashed in his eyes.
“No. But now you’re going to. Or I’m going to remove your fucking teeth one-by-one Luke, and I’m not fucking playing.”
I reached into my pocket and felt the smooth metal of the pliers against my skin and I smiled lazily.
“I’m not fucking scared of you, you prick,” Luke scoffed as he squared up to me.
There it was; the invitation. Not that I needed one; he’d had this coming for years.
Luke lunged for me, thinking years of lifting weights would make him a match for me. It was more to do with balance and knowing your enemies. I moved swiftly, my fist connecting with his jaw with a loud crack as he fell backward into his bed, blood gushing from his mouth.
Silly bastard must’ve bit his tongue.
“What did youdo, Luke?”
I didn’t want to hurt him again, but I would if he didn’t start giving me some answers. He spat blood out onto the floor and looked up at me, realizing I meant business. I toyed with the idea of pulling a couple of teeth out to prove a point, but that was just cruel.
I’m not a thug.
“She came around shooting her mouth off. Things got carried away, one thing led to another—”
The color drained from my face as I grabbed him by the throat, pulling him to his feet. The thought of this prick kissing my girl was enough to make me slit his throat. My temples throbbed as I tightened my grip on his throat, my eyes narrowed into slits.
“You fuckingwhat?”
My voice didn’t sound like mine, as I remembered how she jumped last night. I thought it was the after-effects of the kidnap, but it seemed my suspicions were right. She was on edge because of this cunt.
“Relax, she didn’t go through with it; she kicked me in the balls and left,” he confessed as his shoulders deflated.
I also knew Gretchen wouldn’t just kick him in the balls for no reason. She must’ve had a reason, so I squeezed his throat a little tighter, enjoying watching him gasp for air. Just before he lost consciousness, I released him, and he fell to the floor in a heap.
I kicked him hard in the balls, then the stomach, making sure the message was received loud and clear.
“I don’t want you toeverspeak to either of us again. If you do, you better come and kill me before I fucking find you. Do you understand? This isn’t a game, you little cunt.”
I glared at him as he whimpered on the floor, my blood boiling to the point of no control for leaving him alive.
I couldn’t go around killing people, not all the time anyway. I fucking hated him though, and I hesitated at the doorway as he apologized.
“Your actions speak louder than your words. Don’t fucking insult me, you piece of shit. Keep the fuck away from us.”
I walked away then, before I did something I would regret.
I lit a cigarette as I stood outside, trying to calm myself down before I saw Gretchen again. She was already a bag of nerves; she didn’t need to see me all fired up.
Inhale, exhale.
Repeat.
Part Two: Chapter Twenty-Three
GRETCHEN
“Three more weeks and we will be back in New York.”
