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“Beast, now isn’t the time for a lecture. Let’s just get this done, okay?” I say, not wanting to get into a discussion about the rules of torturing someone. That’s his bag. Not mine. Right now all I want are answers.
“Okay,” he agrees, wisely choosing not to argue with me.
“Why did you kill Rodriguez?” I ask, pulling up a chair and sitting down in front of Mary.
Her head rolls on her shoulders and she mumbles, “My baby.”
“What about your baby?” I ask, trying to get her to focus. “Did Rodriguez threaten him?
“My baby. My baby. My baby. My baby,” she says, her dry and cracked lips trembling as she blinks at me, her bloodshot eyes hazy.
“Ford?” I question.
She drops her head, her chin pressing against her chest as she drools. Her hair is lank, and she’s balding in patches. Her frame is thin, gaunt, and her skin is sallow. She’s a wreck of a human being. Drug and alcohol addiction has ruined her mind and her body. When I think about Ford having to spend ten years of his life growing up under the care of this woman, my fucking heart breaks. That kid has some kind of superhuman strength surviving this woman and that cunt she brought into his life who’s now nothing more than pig fodder.
“Mary, did Rodriguez threaten to hurt Ford?” I press.
Her head snaps up, her eyes hyperfocusing on me as she finally registers her son’s name. “My baby!” she shouts, specks of blood and spittle flying from her mouth. I twist my head to the side, making a mental note to scrub myself clean once this is all over.
“We checked in on him, he’s okay,” I say, hoping that by reassuring her, she’ll fight against the tide of her addiction and psychosis and stay lucid enough to answer some questions.
Not that she deserves to know he’s okay, the bitch deserves to be rotting six feet underground for the abuse and cruelty she’s inflicted on her son. But as much as I want to end her sorry life, I won’t.
At least not yet.
Right now she has information, and I need that more than I want her dead.
“No! My baby! He took my baby!”
“Who did? What are you saying?”
“HIM! My baby!” she screams.
I gag at the smell of her stale breath and the metallic scent of blood that washes over me. This day can fucking do one. I’m over it already.
“Kate, she’s too high right now. Let her sober up a bit. We’ll question her later,” Beast says, watching me, his arms folded across his chest. There’s concern in his gaze, and I love him for it, but he needs to understand that I’m not weak. That I can and will do this.
“No, I want to know now.”
“We don’t need to rush. Christy’s safe. Loretta has checked in and we’ve got time to figure this shit out.”
“Christy’s safe fornow,” I point out. “The King is still out there cooking something up. Rodriguez is dead so we can’t question him, and somehow these two know each other enough for Mary to kill him. I want to knowwhy, and I’m not leaving here until I find out.”
“Because she’s an addict and he’s her dealer,” Beast says, as though that’s the most logical explanation. It’s not. It’s the easiest.
“No way. Rodriguez wouldneverget close to an addict like this. There’s more to this story than meets the eye. You know that!” I reply stubbornly.
“Kate, just take a break. She’s not going anywhere,”
“Look, it’s been a long day. You can go. I’ll take care of this.”
Beast scoffs, pushing off from the counter he’s leaning against. “Not happening. I’ll stay until you get what you need, and then I’m taking you home and helping you put this long arse day behind you.”
“Is that a promise?” I ask, giving him a small smile. The thought of being wrapped up in his arms is the only thing getting me through this day.
“It’s a motherfucking guarantee.”
An hour passes and I’m no closer to the truth.
