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"I’m not interested in your limp dick, MacMurray."
His nostrils flared. "Fuck you."
"Got a bride who’ll do it for me. Don’t need you for that," I mocked. "What are you taking?"
"Got nothing to do with you—"
"It has everything to do with me," I countered, my hand tightening about his hair until he was swearing:
"Let me the fuck go!"
"What are you on?" I insisted, wanting to hear it from him, not secondhand.
"Red," he spat.
I didn’t relinquish my hold on him entirely, but I gave his scalp a break. "Who sold it to you?"
"Why does it matter? Just some fucking kid—"
"On our territory?"
"No," he mumbled.
"You sure?"
His eyes slitted. "No."
"Informative," Brennan sniped.
My knee was starting to ache so I surged to a standing position, tightening my hold on his hair as I dragged him up with me.
Yelping, he scrambled to move with me, but his wrists were shackled to a spreader bar that I’d only just seen so he didn’t get that far up before I let go. His legs collided with the ground, and he bit off a couple curses.
"Probably more torture devices in Queens of Heart than in your warehouse, Bren," I drawled in amusement.
"You bastard junkie," MacMurray growled. "You wanna know who my source is so you can hit him up too?"
"You’re really asking for a beating, hypocrite."
Eoghan’s cool tone rang around the room, but like the asswipe he was, the drugged and clearly deluded moron didn’t take into account that one of the world’s deadliest snipers had just uttered a warning.
Fool.
"What? It’ll take all fucking six of you to deal with me?" He roared with laughter. "Sounds about fuckin’ right. You’ll never be like your father. Never—"
"Then we’re in luck, MacMurray. I don’t think any of us intend on being anything like him." I reached into the holster I’d strapped on my shoulder earlier and pressed the gun to his head. "Did a dealer come onto our turf to sell drugs or did you buy it on someone else’s?"
That finally got through to him.
I burrowed the barrel into his forehead, watching his eyes cross as he stared up at the weapon.
Though he sounded more wary, he still rasped, "You won’t shoot me."
"You sure you wanna take that bet?"
"Piece of shit," he rumbled before I unclicked the safety and placed my finger on the trigger. That had him blurting out, "I went onto their turf."
"Which turf?"
