Page 6

The air is stale and musty in here and reeks of piss and shit, no doubt from the prisoner soiling himself.
Rhett came in earlier and tied him to the chair and gagged him. The man’s head is slumped forward with his chin resting on his chest.
I rip the gag out of his mouth and take a few steps back to keep my distance. Men like him are prone to spit, and if he spits on me, I know I’ll kill him.
There’s nothing more disrespectful than spitting at someone.
I can’t ruin my family’s chance of getting dirt on Rossi by letting my anger get the best of me. Not right now.
Pulling out my pocket knife, I gently run the blade over my fingers. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. If I were you, I’d choose the easy way. The other way is going to be extremely painful and drawn out.”
The man doesn’t bother looking up. He’s bruised, beaten, and exhausted, like he’s been through an interrogation already.
Did we do this to him? Or perhaps the Reapers got to him first.
“What is your name?” I growl out.
He doesn’t speak.
I stalk over to him and wrap my fingers in the back of his hair and yank his head back until he’s looking at me. I press the knife blade against his throat.
There is a hint of fear in his eyes, but it’s mostly a haunted, dead look. It’s almost as if he’s wishing for death, but why?
“Tell me your name!” I yell. Standing over him, I watch his expression change from fear to shock to anger.
I remove the blade from his throat and run it down his forearm, pressing the tip into his skin with enough force to draw a small amount of blood.
“John Smith.” He croaks out.
“Like the Englishman?”
He nods and gulps.
Rossi chose a man named John Smith to work with? That is the most common and generic name ever to exist.
I let go of his hair, and his head slumps forward.
“What is Rossi up to? What is his plan of attack? How is he going to get revenge on my family?”
I bark out question after question, to which the man shakes his head over and over again.
“Answer me!” I yell as I dig the knife into his other arm.
He flinches and his voice cracks. “I don’t know anything. I swear. I have no reason to lie to you.”
Turning away from him, I take a few steps back again. “How can you not know anything? Rossi doesn’t keep his plans to himself.”
Unless he just started keeping future plans to himself and his right-hand man. Maybe this guy is being honest, and he really doesn’t know. He does seem to be low on the hierarchy.
“What do you do for Rossi?” I put my knife up.
“I gather information for him.”
I spin around and level a glance at him. “What kind of information?”
He takes a deep breath but doesn’t answer. I put my knife up and stalk back over to him. I yank his head up, ball my hand into a fist, and swing. I land my punch right on his jaw.
Blood spurts all over my hand.