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“Did you not tell Prez last night that you wanted the son of a bitch who fucked with your woman?” he asked.
“Are you telling me the motherfucker you got last night is the same guy who was after Bella? You know this for sure?”
“Yeah man, the pussy only lasted a few hours in the box before talking. The idiot is giving up info left and right, but I figured you still wanted your time with him, considering he fucked with Bella.”
Opening the door to the basement, I’m hit with an overwhelming feeling of heat. Turning the heat up is something we like to do when putting someone in the box. The one we use is about sixty-seven inches in length and nearly thirty inches wide. So when you put a man over six feet tall inside, he must slightly bend his knees to fit. But once the lid is closed, the fit is so tight he is unable to move or stretch out. Being in that position for hours on end, the claustrophobia, combined with joint stiffness —not to mention, the heat? Yeah, few people last before giving up.
I see Jake sitting off to the side of the room smoking a cigarette. When my eyes land on the box, Quinn is sitting on top of it with his phone in his hand. From the sounds of it, he’s playing Call of Duty. I swear he’s like having a fuckin’ kid around sometimes, but you gotta love him.
He looks up from his phone when he sees me walking over. “Well, hey there, brother. Glad you could finally join us.”
“Shut up asshole, nobody fuckin’ called me last night.”
“Of course we didn’t, we weren’t about to interrupt you while you were with your woman. Look at you man, all glowin’ and shit.”
I hear Jake chuckle. Gabriel is over in the corner shaking his head, but his shaking shoulders let me know he’s at least trying to hold in his laughter. “Shut the fuck up before I put a bullet in your ass,” I say, slapping him on the back of his head as he hops off the box.
“Alright brothers, let’s get this party started. Gabriel gets him out, I’d like to hear what this cocksucker has to say.” With a chin lift, he walks over and starts to unlatch the box. Once the lid is removed, the smell of piss fills the room. Gabriel proceeds to haul the man out. The fucker is so stiff and dehydrated from the heat he can barely move on his own.
A moment later there is a knock on the door. Jake walks over and lets Austin in. He brought bottles of water and some sandwiches. This is something else we do, because what’s the fun in beating a man that’s already half-dead, so we’ll give the man some water and something to eat—the last meal of sorts. Though I’m sure he suspects he’s not coming out of this basement alive. After Gabriel sets him in a chair, I offer him the food and water, which he greedily accepts. Once he’s finished and I take a seat in front of him, I notice the SGT AT ARMS patch on his cut. I also recognize him as one of the men who ambushed our run, and stole our guns.
“You speak English?”
“Sí, I speak English.”
“What’s your name?”
“Carlos.”
“Alright Carlos, we have a lot to talk about, but first we’re going to start with the woman you were following last night.”
“The bitch is payment owed to us, her and the sister. My Prez has big plans for them, we already have a buyer lined up. He’s coming in from Columbia next week and is expecting us to deliver. The stepdad assured my Prez that both girls are untouched.”
I hear Gabriel growl from the corner of the room, and I give him a look that tells him to rein it in. It’s all I can do to keep myself in check, but I need to keep Carlos talking.
“What are they payme
nt for?” I grind out.
“That gringo, Lee, owes my club some money, and when that puta, bitch couldn’t pay, he offered up his stepdaughters. It’s just too bad my Prez wants to sell, I’d love a go at big sister. I bet her pussy...”
Carlos doesn’t get a chance to finish, his words get cut off when I come out of my chair and punch him in his face. I hit him so hard his neck snaps back, and he and the chair fall to the floor, knocking him out cold.
Quinn walks over to where he’s lying on the floor. “Maaaan Carlos, you got knocked the fuck out,” he says in faux Spanish accent.
“I can’t believe you lasted that long without hitting the motherfucker,” Gabriel spits.
“So,” Jake says when he walks over. “What you make of what he’s saying?”
“I believe him, but I don’t like how he’s too forthcoming with the information. I don’t know Prez, something’s off.”
“He’s playing with us,” Gabriel says.
Hearing movement behind me, I turn to see the piece of shit picking himself up with the chair and sitting back down, then uses the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his busted lip.
I walk back over to Carlos. “I want to know where we can find Lee,” I bite out. I’m so over this bullshit.
“Sorry, gringo, I’m all talked out,” He says with a smirk on his face.
