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Needing to focus, I quickly stop on the side road to comprehend what I’m seeing.
“Do you think they know?” asks the masked man.
“No. They’re so focused on the Snakes that they’re not looking elsewhere.” I know this voice, but I can’t put my finger on it. The darkness of the room completely conceals his face. Goddamnit.
“Good. The deal still stands. I want them dead. They’re no good for business,” says the masked man.
“We will, father. You can count on me.” What the actual fuck? Shaan is the one talking. Mother fucker. He’s been working for me for years, and he’s the one trying to kill me? Before I have time to do anything, my phone rings again.
“Did you get it too?” asks Scott on the other end of the line. My jaw is contracted, my fist tightening on the steering wheel of my car.
“I did. Don’t do anything. I’m almost there.”
“What the actual fuck? How did Kore have access to this video?” asks Scott before I’m even out of the car. We both walk towards my boot, my lips sealed. I say nothing. Opening it, he looks at me with confused eyes.
“Are you going to explain yourself, or shall I guess?”
“Scott, meet Andrea Bianchi. The guy that stabbed your sister. And as for your questions,” I pause, looking at the guy lying in front of me, “I guess you’ll have your answers soon.” His eyes, filled with anger, scan the situation and size it up.
“Are you telling me you went on a hunt without including me? I’m hurt, brother. I love a good hunt.” I shake my head. This guy is something else. His mask is already on the top of his head as if he has been waiting for this.
“Quit your whining, princess,” I say as I point at the guy in my boot. “And give me a hand getting him inside.”
It takes us a few minutes to transport him into the den. Sitting him on the chair placed in the middle of the space, I take the rope and make sure to attach and tighten his hands and his legs to the back of the chair.
The room is dark, and only the small lights of the ceiling illuminate the tiny area. The smell of blood and detergent is all over the place. There’s a table in the back of the room, filled with all I will need to start my interrogation. Knife, hammer, mallet, axe, nose pliers, saw, and a pipe wrench. You name it, it’s here. My favourite is the pipe wrench. You can easily break fingers slowly and painfully with it.
Taking a big bucket of ice, I throw it in his face.
“Wakey, wakey.” His body slowly begins to move as he stirs awake. My fingers dig into his hair as I pull his head back, my other hand delivering a swift, stinging slap to his cheek. “Time to wake the fuck up.”
Scott leans against the wall at the back, his mask on his face, aware that this particular task is mine to handle. He can play with him all he wants, but the final blow will be mine.
Opening his eyes slowly, he scans the area around him, probably wondering how he got here.
“Cazzo. What am I doing here?”
Before grabbing the chair that I placed in front of him, I move towards the table to grab the hammer.
“Huh, huh. I don’t think you’re in any position to ask any questions. But I have some for you, and I expect answers.” Bringing my chair closer to him, I say, “Do you remember stabbing a woman not long ago?”
The recognition in his eyes is immediate.
“I’m here because of that bitch?” he spits out.
“Wrong answer, lad,” says Scott. Andrea now notices my shadow in the back of the room.
He looks back and forth at both of us. “You… You’re the Slicer,” he says, looking at Scott, who I know has a huge smile beneath his mask. He loves the recognition. He bores his eyes into mine before saying, “And you’re the Spectre.” Fear dances in his eyes.
“Aye, we are. Glad our reputation precedes us. Now, the first question I have for you is, who the fuck are you working for?” He’s not going to answer right away, but I’ll make him. Grabbing my hammer tighter, I lean in a bit more. “I asked you a fucking question,” I say, my voice low and menacing. “And I expect an answer. Who the fuck are you working for?”
Andrea looks at me, his eyes darting around the room as if he's searching for a way out. But there's no escape for him now.
“Very well.” The sound of my hammer hitting his right hand on the armrest echoes through the room. The crack of his bones breaking resonates in my ears as he cries out in agony.
“Let me try something else. Who kidnapped the women?” The adrenaline rush flows through my veins. Although I would gladly kill him right this moment, I need answers.
His ragged breathing intensifies as he spits in my face answering, “I won’t say shit.”
