Page 43

Story: Duncan

I looked up at Mac. “The kid ain’t gonna last much longer.”

I looked over at Garritt. He bowed his head and his feet dragged on the ground.

“He give up anything?” I asked, watching as he didn’t respond when Aran hit him again.

“No. He’s stronger than we expected.”

I nodded and stood from the wall. “Hold up!”

Walking over, I stood before Garritt. I grabbed his hair and lifted his head. His eyes were glazed over and he smiled.

“He’s fuckin’ high.” Letting him go, I turned to Oscar. “Sober him up.”

Oscar moved slowly, giving me time to walk back to my spot against the wall. He knew I wouldn’t want anything on my suit, and Oscar made a mess.

Every. Goddamn. Time.

“Hey, Garritt.” Oscar leaned over to look Garritt in the eye. “Only gonna ask once. Who do those numbers belong to? I don’t enjoy repeating myself. Makes my fuckin’ head hurt. So, I’ll ask the question, you give the answer, and everything gets done. We all go home. You don’t answer, well... then I gotta find a way to make you answer.”

“Good God, he’s gonna talk him to death,” Cian groaned.

“Hey, sometimes it works,” Liam offered.

“It works at home, ’cause everyone knows what a fuckin’ psycho he is. Not sure everyone has heard about him out here,” Aiden said.

“They will after today.” I smiled as Oscar continued his monologue with Garritt. It was pointless. Garritt was high as a fucking kite. That, combined with the pain from the beating, not much was getting through his head.

But Oscar had a process. For being messed up, he still believed in being fair. Giving someone the opportunity to do the right thing. He didn’t seem to grasp that if they chose to do the right fucking thing in the first place, we wouldn’t need Oscar to show them the error of their ways.

Oscar stood, and it signaled that his fun was about to start.

“Hey, Cal, you might want to back up,” I offered. Nodding to the far wall where he would avoid the over spray.

Callum and Niall moved back, but Aran stuck close. The look in his eyes told me he had heard of Oscar and was hoping to learn a few things.

Oscar picked up his pipe wrench and walked behind Garritt, whom someone had strung up with his hands over his head. I watched as Oscar squatted behind Garritt and removed his shoes.

“What the fuck’s he doing?” Niall asked.

“Watch.”

Oscar looked up at me, and I nodded. It didn’t matter what he did to Garritt, he wouldn’t be leaving this freezer alive.

Oscar attached the wrench around Garritt’s heel and twisted. Severing the connection between the leg and the foot. The sound that reverberated around the room was one I had never truly adjusted to.

Those of us familiar with Oscar’s brand of interrogation winced. The men from New York, well... they got a quick education into what happened when you fucked with Boston.

While New York teemed with business executives and millionaires, Boston was home to blue-collar boys.

The original fuck around and find out.

Oscar had wrenched that aptly named tool quickly and efficiently in a way that had Garritt’s foot completely turned around. His cry would have echoed throughout the city if not for the steel walls surrounding us.

“STOP! Please God, stop!” he cried out. His body convulsed on the hook as he tossed and turned in pain.

“Why were you helping Tyran?” I asked, more interested in that than anything else.

“Nolan said I had to. Said he’d kill me if anyone found out.”