The said asshole was hanging like a damn cow carcass five feet off the ground and bleeding from multiple knife wounds. Salvatore was all fun and games until someone attempted to fuck with his business or family. Then he was as ruthless as they came.
Salvatore knew exactly how to slice and dice his target to ensure a slow and painful death. His methods made sure his victim didn’t die until he got his information.
“It doesn’t seem there’s much to get back to,” I muttered, flicking a look at the man.
Salvatore leaned against the single column, wearing jeans, combat boots, and a plain white T-shirt that was splattered with blood.
“He was annoying the shit out of me,” he said coolly. “Apparently, he doesn’t know the definition of a direct answer.”
“Seems fair that you strung him up, then.”
I slid my hands into my pockets as I studied the scene. I rarely did the torturing myself, but today I kind of hoped to have a hand in it to release some of this tension. No such luck.
I stepped through the cooling pool of blood as I crossed the concrete floor of the warehouse, stopping before the hanging asshole’s head. His clothes hung off him, stained with blood.
“You look very uncomfortable,” I drawled, a sinister smile curved around my lips. My hands were out of my pockets in a blink. I smashed them against his skull, hitting him so hard his head jerked back as a painful yelp tore from his lips. “Now, how about a direct answer so we can all go back to our families?”
“Except for you,” Salvatore added coldly. “You’re going to die, but if you give us an answer, we’ll spare your family.”
The man’s pupils dilated with terror as his bloodshot eyes darted to me, then behind me to where Salvatore stood casually.
I turned to address my friend. “How long has he been hanging upside down?”
Salvatore shrugged his shoulders. “A minute or two.”
“Ah, good. We should wrap it up quickly, then.” I returned my attention to the man and asked, “You ready to talk to us?”
In our world, it was risky to love anyone. But more or less, we all had those people in our lives. I loved my children more than my own life. The man hanging in front of me had a family too, and that was where a backup plan came in.
If he didn’t talk, that was our second step. Not that we’d hurt his innocent wife and children, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I don’t know anything,” he whimpered.
“You know where my fucking shipment is,” Salvatore drawled. “And you know your name. Start there.”
“I don’t?—”
He didn’t get to finish, because Salvatore was already on him, slicing him across his belly.
“Think twice before you talk,” I coldly recommended. “Salvatore can make this extremely painful for you and your family.”
He coughed. Or maybe cried. I couldn’t exactly tell, nor did I care.
“Now answer the question,” Salvatore gritted.
“Michael… Smith.”
“Excellent. Now about the other question,” I deadpanned. The man blinked, confused, as if he had forgotten the other question. Before Salvatore could get to slicing and dicing again, I repeated the question. “Where is Salvatore’s shipment?”
He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “At the bottom of the sea.”
Salvatore grabbed him by the hair and tugged on it. “What did you say?”
Michael shook his head. “D-didn’t… know how to get rid of it.”
“Why did you steal it, then, if you only wanted to get rid of it?” I demanded.
He coughed up some blood, then croaked, “I was paid to snatch the shipment from you.”
