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My phone buzzes. I read the text.
Jones: Have an update, but I'm leaving in the next two hours.
I glance at my watch, determining what traffic will be like. I could wait, but I told Jones not to text me until progress was made. My patience has worn thin, so I'll have to cut my little session with Chainsaw early.
Me: I'll be there before you need to leave.
I refocus on the current situation and toss the envelope on the desk. I glance at Snake's black eye and say to Chainsaw, "Looks like you started the fun without me."
"Nah. He's a pussy," Chainsaw says, as if bored.
Knowing I'm pressed for time, I go over to Snake, slowly rip the duct tape off him to intensify the pain, and toss the skin-and-hair-covered adhesive onto his lap.
His muffled cries echo in the room.
I tug the cloth out of his mouth.
"I didn't do nothing," he claims.
I yank his head back so fast he screams. I lean over him, keeping my voice calm, and ask, "How much did you get for tricking Blakely?"
He blurts out, "That skank is why I'm here?"
I snap and punch him so hard he falls to the ground. The metal chair bangs on the concrete floor. Blood spews out of his nose, and he yelps.
I grab him by the hair, yanking him back into a sitting position, and he shouts, "Stop it!"
"See, nothing but a pussy," Chainsaw interjects.
"How much?" I repeat, my spit hitting his face.
"Two fifty!" he cries out.
His answer makes me angrier. I tug his head farther and fight to reclaim control of my emotions. I seethe, "That's the price of your life, then."
His eyes widen. He tries to get out of my grasp, but he's not going anywhere.
I release him, turn to Chainsaw, and order, "Finish the job."
Chainsaw cracks his knuckles. "Gladly. No one's gonna be missing this piece of shit."
I point to the envelope. Cash and pictures of Roy and George are in it, along with their home addresses and family situations. The last thing I need is women or children getting hurt. Surprises aren't good for Chainsaw's line of work. I assert, "When you're done, I've got two more pieces of shit for you. Destroy it once you're clear on the targets."
"Got it," he replies.
I leave, cranking the music in the car. Hugh's going to have a fit when Roy and George go missing. Jones has something for me now, and it has to be good news. I get to Compton and reverse into his garage.
He doesn't shut the door, comes over to my window, and announces, "I cracked it. I just siphoned the first million from one of his offshore accounts. I'm taking smaller amounts from the legal ones he has here."
A rush of adrenaline almost makes me dizzy. I'm finally making progress to take Hugh down beyond pissing him off with footage of my pet. I ask, "It's untraceable?"
Jones furrows his brows as if insulted. "Of course it is. My system is bulletproof. However, I'll continue upgrading it, as things always move fast in the cyber world."
I fist-bump him, feeling giddy. "Good man. Keep me posted."
I pull out, turn my music up again, and fight more traffic, not even bothered by it. I finally veer off the exit, and a car pulls out of the space directly in front of Naked Pipe Entertainment, one of L.A.'s hottest recording studios.
"My lucky day," I mutter, sliding into the spot. I get out and stroll through the front door.
