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“Chocolate.”
“You got it.”
Gambit
MY BROTHERS HAD JAMESin one of the cells waiting for the rest of us to arrive. He was cowering in the corner. I had a feeling this guy was going to spill the beans in record time. James didn’t look like it would take much, and he was still in the cell.
“Hook him up,” I said.
Smoke and Dakota drug him from the cell tying his hand in front of him, before raising them above his head. They hooked the rope to a large metal hook attached to the ceiling with chains. James started screaming the moment his feet lifted into the air.
“Shut him the fuck up.”
Outlaw smiled, toed off one boot and removed his sock. He stuffed his bare foot back in his boot before shoving the sock in James' mouth. I walked up to him, looking at him eye level, now that he was dangling several inches off the ground.
“You fucked up when you sold a key to Stormy’s apartment.”
The man’s eyes went wide. I hit him in the stomach first, taking the wind out of him. He gasped and struggled around the dirty sock in his mouth.
His pitiful moans increased as I began to work him over. I treated him like Rocky did that side of beef. Hitting him in his ribs, back, and kidneys. It didn’t matter that James would give up the information as soon as he was free to speak. The man deserved to suffer for selling a key to someone else’s home, much less his woman.
“Next,” I said, stepping aside.
Smoke stepped up next.
“Did you know the lowlife motherfucker you sold that key to terrorized Stormy?”
He hit James in the jaw. Hard enough, I worried it would break for a moment. But I knew better. Smoke knew how much force to use. He continued to yell at James as he worked him over. With a final punch to his kidneys, Smoke spat out, “That’s because the dog was poisoned. You useless piece of human waste.”
“Outlaw, you can have your sock back.” I chuckled. “You might want to burn it.”
“Good plan.”
“I’m sorry,” James blubbered. “It was too much money. I couldn’t turn it down.”
“You could indeed turn it down, asswipe.”
I pulled up a picture of junior, showing it to James. He squinted with his one, unswollen eye. The other one was nearly swollen shut.
“Is this the guy you sold the key to?”
“No.”
“What? Look again?”
James' voice trembled when he answered, “That’s not the guy. This guy was in his fifties, mostly gray hair. Built like a linebacker with a jersey accent.”
“Cut him down. Throw him back in the cell.”
Fuck, we’d have to keep the weasel alive long enough to find the mystery man. I wanted James to identify him before we fed him to the gators.
Stormy
THE SMELL OF COFFEEroused me from my sleep. I sat up, careful not to wake Gambit. He’d slipped in bed a few hours ago. With careful movements I got out of bed, used the restroom and dressed before going downstairs. I threw on a pair of shorts, a tank and a bra.
A woman I didn’t recognize sat at the kitchen counter sipping a cup of coffee. Her deep red hair was put up in a messy bun. She smiled at Stormy as she entered the kitchen.
“Good morning. You must be Stormy. I’m Beatrice, but everyone calls me Red.”
