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Bleach Boy’s eyes narrowed, and he puffed up his chest in an effort to intimidate Henri. He failed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Quick as a flash, Henri whipped his arm out and grabbed hold of Bleach Boy’s hand. With a flick of his wrist, Henri twisted the limb out at an ugly angle and jerked the kid in toward his body. Then he clamped a hand down over the top of Bleach Boy’s mouth and backed the punk up against the wall.
Henri had a good three or four inches on Bleach Boy, and as he glared down into his wide eyes, Henri took perverse pleasure in twisting his arm a little tighter. “What it means is that you’re too soft for this world and you should get the fuck out while you still can.”
Henri brought his elbow up and rammed it into the side of the kid’s face, knocking him out cold before sliding him down the wall to the floor, leaving him for Dick to find.
Henri retrieved his phone and flicked on the recording app before slipping it into the pocket of his leather jacket and grabbing his gun. Get in, get the information, and then get the fuck out, he told himself as he reached for the door handle.
First thing he noticed: the room was dark. They’d pulled the shades and kept all the lights off, no doubt to throw him off. Wasn’t going to work, though; Victor had left Henri in dark rooms ever since he was fucking born. As his eyes adjusted, Henri pivoted toward the two figures on the left side of the room, where a sliver of light slipped through the tattered curtains and outlined their silhouettes.
One was seated—rAz, Henri was betting—and the other stood off to the side—his guard dog. Henri was familiar with this little setup. The whole thing screamed of Victor and Jimmy, just more amateurish and, well, less threatening.
“So, you’re the one who’s been asking after me, huh? Mr. Moneybags.”
“That would be me. So that must make you rAz.”
“It might…it might not.”
“Huh.” Henri nodded and made a show of looking around before taking a step forward. “Well, I’m kind of hoping it does, because I put up some big money to get a meeting with you, and if you aren’t rAz, then I’m not interested.”
As Henri went to turn and leave, the guard dog stepped out from behind his master.
“You’ve got some fucking balls, I’ll give you that,” rAz said. “Sniffing around my crew and makin’ deals with them without my permission.”
There was the confirmation that Henri was dealing with the right person. Now all he needed was a connection to the girls. “I wouldn’t have had to do that if they’d just got in contact with you from the beginning.”
“Well, sorry to fuckin’ inconvenience you. But that’s not how things work round here.” RAz shifted in his seat, his irritation at Henri’s less-than-submissive attitude clearly pissing him off. “I pick my dealers. I pick my whores. I control my product. I don’t need some rich townie coming up on my men tellin’ them that he can make them more money, tellin’ me that I can. That kind of thing can wind a person up dead.”
The guard dog moved into some kind of attack mode, and Henri wasn’t sure if it was the shitty week he’d had or the fact that he really didn’t like guys who sold drugs and killed women to keep them quiet, but he really hoped the fucker charged—because he was ready for a fight.
“Wait a minute, is this some kind of setup?” Henri said. “I was told you wanted to bring me in.”
The lie worked. “I don’t want to bring you in. I want to shut you up, and there’s only one effective way to do that.”
Henri’s heart was thumping now, his adrenaline pumping through his veins as his eyes continued to dart from the dog back to its master. “You sound like you’ve done it before.”
RAz laughed, and the sound was the same kind of evil that Henri had heard many times over, from men far more sinister. “Yeah, guess you could say that. Nothing like looking someone in the eye when they’re taking their last breath, or feeling their body go limp in your hands. It was a real treat to be the one to shut those little whore bitches up once and for all. Just like it will be shutting you up.” As the confession fell off rAz’s tongue, Henri knew he was solid. But before he could react, rAz issued his kill word. “Diego.”
The second the word left rAz’s tongue, his man attacked, but Henri was ready. With the light shining in behind them, Henri had seen Diego draw his gun, seen him raise his arm, and Henri ducked as the bullet left the barrel.
