AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Do you do that to all your clients? How come you stayed in business so long?” He’d soon run out of clients at this rate.
“Savage’s whore,” he gurgles through the blood in his throat.
This I didn’t expect. Rome neither. He shrugs at my questioning glance.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I growl.
“Savage’s slut. Jumped-up cock-sucking prick. Too…too good for the likes o’ me. So he thought…”
“Are you talking about Ethan Savage?” I enquire coolly.
“Arrogant bastard. Fucking coward, hiding away on that island o’ his.”
I’m not sure the mad sod even knows what he’s saying now. I let him ramble.
“I worked wi’ his father. We was mates. Partners. He owed me but wouldn’t pay up. The east side were mine, an’ he stole it.”
“East side?” I mouth to Rome.
“Glasgow, probably,” he mouths back.
“What do you mean, partners?”
Fuller’s befuddled gaze meets mine, then slides away. “Did business together,” he mutters. “Jobs.”
“What fucking jobs?” I demand.
“Girls. Product. We had…contracts…”
Contracts? The phrase usually refers to contract killings. As far as I know, not an area of trade Ethan deals in. I don’t believe his father did either. And even in the early days, before the Savages were as powerful as they are now, the old man wouldn’t have got into anything with a slimeball like Felix Fuller.
“You’re a liar.”
He shakes his head. “S’true.”
“Fuck this. Rome, more water. Heat it up this time.”
“Right, boss.” He leaves with the bucket.
I grab Fuller by the front of his grimy, bloodstained shirt and shake him. “Time’s running out. I’m bored with you now and I have a woman waiting for me upstairs. A woman you damn near killed. So there’s how this ends, one of two ways. Either you explain to me what you have against Ethan Savage and why you hurt Jenna Delaney, or I put you out of your misery by drowning you in boiling water. Do you understand me?”
The widening of his eyes is the only indication he has grasped what’s about to happen. He seems to momentarily gather his wits, then he’s fighting, desperate to escape my clutches and an agonising death.
I slam him back against the wall. “Tell me what I want to know.”
“Can’t. Too long ago. Can’t remember…”
“Try harder.”
Rome reenters the cell and places the bucket on the floor beside me. Steam rises ominously from the surface of the water within.
“Well?” I demand.
“It…it was Archer. It were ’is idea…”
Archer? That name’s familiar. Where have I heard it before?
“Who’s Archer?”
