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With him shrieking like a banshee, I snapped a photo, moved away from him, and sent it to Savannah.
No caption.
Nothing.
I thought she'd be asleep, but she replied:
Savvie:THANK YOU
My lips twitched before I schooled my expression and turned around to face Hal once more.
Brennan's confusion was clear—why stab him in the eye with a key when I had a knife at hand?
I didn't bother explaining the imagery or why it was a reward. Brennan gifted Camille with diamonds and emeralds, not bloodied photos of torture victims. It wasn’t like he’d get it even if I tried to make him understand.
Instead of explaining, over his incessant wails, I projected, "Now, Hal, you have a choice. I can pin you to that crucifix and you can bleed out slowly, or you can die with the rest of your conspirators. Quickly."
When he didn’t answer, Brennan kicked him. "Answer him."
When a reply wasn’t imminent, he did it again. And again. Until Hal, his voice gruff from screaming, rasped, "What do you want from me?"
"Funny how all these soft fucks cave in so fast, isn't it?" Brennan mocked.
He wasn't wrong.
Conor had told me that the moment Anthony had confessed, he and Savannah had thought the admission spilled too easily, too quickly from his lips.
But that wasn't how dipshits like these worked.
They were sheep too.
They just thought they were wolves.
They weren't.
There were six wolves in the Five Points, and they were all goddamn O'Donnellys.
"It is," I concurred. "But, you see, that's what happens when you try to take something that you know will never belong to you."
"Sounds like idiocy to me."
I smiled at Brennan's objection. "Or faith. If anyone understands faith, it's us, isn't it?"
He rolled his eyes at that, but I just stared down at Hal and rumbled, "How many in the plot were in the ECD too?"
Hal's good eye flared wide. "N-No one."
More scared of the ECD than us…
Well, I couldn't allow that, could I?
I drew out my blade, ignoring the crusted edge of blood from its last victim, and crouched down in front of him.
Much as I'd done with Anthony, I let it scrape against his jaw, but this time, I burrowed in deep.
"My wife has burns here," I told him conversationally as Brennan grabbed his head and held him in place for me while he sobbed and snotted and cried out his agony. "Only fitting you should bear scars too." As blood seeped from the cuts I made, I rasped, "The ECD can't get to you here, Hal. But I can."
His good eye peered into mine and he blurted out, "J-Jonesy."
