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How can a man abandon his children and leave them to live in squalor while his whore travels the world on money that belongs to their mum?
That’s why he’s here now.
Greed. Cockiness. Stupidity.
Felix groans, his body swaying a bit from the blow. “W-what’s going…fuck!” he screams, the next blow from my boot landing on his ribs. It’s hard enough to crack a rib, and the way he tries to fold into the pain is a good sign of just that, but this is just the beginning.
He dodged up. Touched a woman that to the Jameson’s was sacred.
“The next time I strike, I’ll use my knife. Wake up.” Casper tosses a sleek blade in my direction, and I catch it, a butterfly version, and flip it open. The clean metal glints in the sunlight filtering through the glass panels used to make up the building’s roof. “You have five seconds to open your eyes.”
They snap open at once, and he winces from the earlier strike across his face. The area is swollen and a nasty shade of purple. He tries to move his head back, away from me, but I don’t take it personally as I’m sure it has something to do with the cold tip running down his cheek. From temple to jaw, I leave a shallow cut that brims red, but only a few small drops fall.
There’s fear in his eyes. Petrified with a good mixture of horror that seeps from the cunt’s every pore. Pathetic.
“Nice of you to join us,” I say as I embed the very tip into his skin, just an inch. “Now, are you ready to play?”
“Who are you?” He’s asking me, yet his eyes are on Casper; I look over at the latter and find him sitting atop a few boxes. His posture seems relaxed, but I know better. Can read him like no one else, and I’m not the least bit surprised to find Casper’s gun on his thigh and his finger on the trigger.
“Oi.”
“Callum.”
“We made a deal to play nice.” As I say this, I push in another inch of my blade. “We need him to talk.”
“Agreed.” Casper shoots him once, on his thigh this time. “Please ignore me.”
“Thank you.” With my attention back on Felix, I pull the knife out and wipe the bloody metal across his bare chest before dropping it. I’ll be going a different route today. “I’m ready for that story now. Why did you do it?”
“You’re Callum Jameson?”
“I am.”
“And he’s Casper Jameson.” Not a question, but I nod in confirmation. “Dios mio ayudame. Que hice.”
“You helped an innocent woman die. You have his mum’s blood on your hands.” Leaning closer so we’re at eye level, I pat his bloody cheek. “God will not save you, De La Vega. He’s gifted you to us; we are your penance.”
Tears flow down his cheeks, body shaking, but I stand back and let him have his moment.
I take a seat next to Casper and accept the cold bottle of water Archie offers me. “Thanks, mate.” He doesn’t reply, just gives a subtle nod, and retakes his position. “Any news on the wanker?”
“Ezra’s working on it. Last known location was in South America, but I know he’s not there now. No man running would be stupid enough to stay in one place for long.”
“Caribbean or—”
“We already know he lives there, but don’t know which island yet. My guess is one not too far from the US.”
Nodding, I empty half the bottle in two deep pulls. “That gives us a few choices, starting with those closest to Florida.”
“It does.”
He gives me a pensive look, and I raise a brow. “Something you want to say?”
“You okay, Callum?” His question catches me off guard and I frown, not getting it. “You’ve been a bit quiet lately. Since Chicago.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you? Is there something I need to know?”
