Page 35 of Monstrosity

The bathroom door slams shut, lock clicking.

Amateur move.

I kick it open to find Carlos trying to squeeze through the tiny window, ass stuck halfway out.

Geirolf grabs his legs and yanks him back in, dumping him on the cracked tile floor.

"Carlos Mendez," I say conversationally, stepping over him. "We need to have a little chat."

"I don't know nothing," he stammers, crab-walking backward until he hits the tub. "I'm nobody, man, just?—"

"See, that's a lie." I crouch down to his level. "You know a lot. Like where Dasha Reyes works. Where she lives. What time she leaves for work."

His face pales. "You're him. Rio."

"That's right. And you've been watching my woman."

"Just following orders, man. Nothing personal."

"Nothing personal?" I grab his throat, hauling him up. "You took pictures of my daughters. That feels pretty fucking personal to me."

Geirolf produces zip ties from his pocket, and within minutes, Carlos is secured to a kitchen chair.

Bodul stands guard by the door, trying not to look nervous.

I lay out the tools from Bjorn's kit on the kitchen table, taking my time, letting Carlos see each item.

His eyes track every movement, sweat already beading on his forehead.

"Here's how this works," I explain, pulling out my knife. "You tell me everything about Bembe's plans, and maybe you die quickly. You lie or stall, and I get creative. Understand?"

Carlos nods frantically. "I'll tell you everything, just?—"

"Good. Start with why you were watching Dasha."

"Bembe wanted intel on all the women connected to your club. Said they were leverage for something bigger."

"What's bigger?"

"He didn't tell me specifics. Just said he's planning something that'll bring the Raiders to their knees. The women are just the beginning."

I run the knife along his arm, not cutting yet, just letting him feel the edge. "Not good enough. Details, Carlos. I need details."

"There's a shipment coming in next week! Big one, enough product to flood the entire southeast. He needs you distracted while it moves through."

"So he threatens our women to keep us busy?" The knife bites the skin now, just a little. A drop of blood wells up. "Stupid plan."

"It's more than that!" Carlos yelps. "He's got someone inside. Someone feeding him information."

Everything goes still. "Inside the club?"

"I don't know! Maybe! Or someone close to it. He said he knows things, personal shit about your members."

I think about the photo of Dasha's car in my driveway, taken while I was dealing with Santos.

The timing was too perfect to be coincidence.

"Who's the inside source?"