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This time, the knife hit another rib and I scraped the blade up and down. While flesh wounds are painful, the sensation when metal hits bone is something quite unique and could often persuade people to talk. I wanted this bastard alive—at least until I found out where Ellie was being held, so I couldn’t risk hitting any major vessels or organs. Carter gritted his teeth to avoid shouting, which would’ve impressed me if this wasn’t about finding my woman.
I pulled the blade out and pressed it to his other side.
He stayed silent.
A lot of fucking pain, but no information on Ellie. I might have to consider more unpleasant methods.
The phone rang and I paused in torturing my enemy to answer. “Yeah?”
“I cracked Ellie’s mom’s code. Got everything she was looking into, and all the shit Stacy uncovered too. Sales for hundreds of girls and a few dozen boys too. Addresses of brothels and even Carter’s blackmail files. I have it all.”
“Everything?” My heart raced as I waited, unable to think about what life would look like if Ellie was already dead.
“We’re still checking through Carter’s businesses to see if we can figure out where Ryan is holding her.”
“Thanks, brother.” I shoved the phone back in my pocket before I turned back to Robert. “Last chance.”
“That bitch is as good as dead,” he threatened. “Should’ve known better than to get wrapped up with the likes of you.”
I smiled. “This next question is important, so listen carefully. Monica Markham. Where is she?”
“Where she belongs, in the trash.”
“Wrong answer.” I grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, pressing the tip of the blade under his eyeball. “Let’s try again.”
I felt him flinch, either he was weakening, or the alcohol was wearing off. “I don’t know.”
“Too bad, because I know a lot about you and your businesses,” I told him. “I have all the proof I need about the girls you sold, including the ones you left on my fucking doorstep. I know where your whorehouses are, all of it.”
“Bullshit.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Either tell me exactly where Monica Markham’s body is and give me the address where Ellie is being held, or—”
He cut me off. “Or you’ll kill me?” He laughed. “You need better threats.”
I smiled. “Or I’ll sic the cops on you, but not until after I send your blackmail files to the intended targets and see who gets to you first. I suspect they might want to have a long and painful conversation with you.” Slate hadn’t given me all the details, but enough to know he’d got intel on some powerful people.
He paled at that. “Monica should have minded her own fucking business, stupid woman. I offered her a million dollars to go away. What kind of single mother doesn’t take that?”
“One who’s a good woman. A good person, something you know jack shit about.”
“She got too close to finding out the truth,” he stammered out. “I panicked and had one of my men take care of her.”
“I want a fucking location. Now!”
He gave up everything, including the spot where Ellie’s mother was buried. “I don’t know where Ellie is, and I don’t know where Stacy is. My son took care of her.”
“Thank you for your cooperation,” I told him, and with one quick left-to-right move, slid the hawkbill blade across his throat.
Rocky followed me out of the house, and the moment we left, the door locked and the system re-armed. Slate would have adjusted the home security recording so if anyone watched the tapes, then all they’d see was old man Carter sleeping like a baby one minute, then tied to a chair with his throat slit the next.
“Feel better?”
“I’d feel better if Ellie was in my arms right now. But at least we can do some good with what we found. I only wish he’d known where Ryan took her.”
Rocky took his cell phone out and checked the messages.
“You know, I might have an idea.”
