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I just might give it to him... in the form of a quick death. These two were bullying some street kids when I came across them. Apparently, the hitman had killed one of their father’s, and this bastard was coming back to gloat in their misery. I would have never hired someone this evil, but I know Dante probably picked the man himself. Well, he won’t be doing any more deeds for my brother. I cracked his skull with a few well-placed punches, and when he stops flopping around on the floor, I’ll stomp the life out of him for good.
“Who do you work for, David?” I start with the same question I always do. I don’t know if David is his real name, but I thought I’d heard the hitman call him that just before I’d attacked.
“Dante Montoya,” David immediately blurts out.
“What do you do for him?”
“I transport drugs and weapons.”
“And beat up school children?”
“That wasn’t me! Wilmar ordered me to do it! Those kids had weapons!” His story changes so quickly he can hardly get his next sentence out before he contradicts his last one.
I raise my palm to the shaking miscreant and he stops blubbering about his innocence. It’s clear I don’t believe a word he has to say, but that doesn’t mean all of his ramblings will be lies.
“Do you know who I am?”
The scared and trembling eyes of the cruel transporter study me intently. For a split-second, I think I might have finally found a street tough who recognizes me, but that hope is quickly extinguished.
“No.”
“Who do you report to?”
“Stefan Mendoza.”
The name doesn’t ring a bell. Just how many new men has Dante brought in since my exile? Maybe I wasn’t betrayed by as many people as I thought, maybe Dante really did just get rid of them all...
“Who does Stefan Mendoza report to?”
“Juan Arias.”
My heart stops in my chest. Juan Arias. There’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time. I would have sworn he was dead, or at least in hiding.
Despite my initial suspicions, I had completely dismissed my former advisor of any wrongdoing once I found at that Dante was behind my downfall. Juan wasn’t at the compound when I attacked, and my best guess was that he had been taken care of by Dante and whoever was pulling Dante’s strings.
But now I’ve discovered the truth. Juan didn’t die fighting for me, and he didn’t even run off when I needed him the most. He betrayed me.
I should have known.
Juan was always too smart to let some bullshit like this happen on his watch. I may have been distracted while my empire crumbled to dust around me, but Juan wasn’t. The only way he was going to let something like that happen was if he had a hand in it.
And so, now I know the truth... and it hurts. It really fucking hurts.
There truly isn’t anyone I can trust.
“Where would I go about finding Juan Arias?” I ask the scared bully tied-up before me. Flames of flurry flicker up in my chest, masking the pain. At least I can start getting my revenge the moment I wrap my fingers around that bastard’s throat...
“You’d have to ask Stefan Mendoza, man. I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I just joined this fucking shit-show!”
I wait until he’s done rambling, then I continue. “And where would I go about finding Stefan Mendoza?”
“He’s got a penthouse downtown. That’s all I know.” He seems to know a whole lot for someone who doesn’t know anything.
“What’s the address?”
The trembling errand boy spits it out so fast I hardly have time to remember, but I don’t forget information that’s so important. It also doesn’t hurt that I recognize the address. I use to have a penthouse of my own nearby; hell, I used to have entire buildings nearby. I wonder what’s become of those skyscrapers?
I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
