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‘I know of her. But what would she have to do with me?’
‘Are you denying that she came here?’
‘Yeah.’ My knuckles crunched against his jaw.
‘Don’t lie to me, Dave. My fists are the least of your worries.’ I crouched down in front of him, my eyes level with his. ‘My knife is still in my pocket, but if I’m tempted to take him out, you’ll be losing body parts instead of gaining bruises.’
A dark bloom wetted his jeans as the telltale smell of urine invaded the space. I grinned as terror stole over his face. The wonderful thing about having a horrific reputation as an enforcer who was willing to use torture to get answers is that you rarely actually have to use it. The rumours were almost always worse than reality, and while I wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever was necessary to complete my task, more often than not, a few punches and verbal threats did it.
‘So,’ I said, gripping Dave’s hairy chin sharply in my fingers, digging them into the already purpling spot I’d punched, ‘are you ready to talk?’
‘I can’t. Half my fee depends on her staying hidden.’
‘All I need is a name. You helped her get a new ID, didn’t you?’
Dave swallowed hard, but kept his mouth shut. Unfortunately.
Warm metal grazed my fingertips as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my trusty flick knife. I’d stolen it from one of my many foster fathers as a teen, and it was my baby. Sharp as sin, old as fuck. The wooden grip worn from years of use.
The satisfying thwick sound as I opened it brought a sob wrenching out of Dave’s throat.
‘What would you like to lose first? A toe? A finger? Your balls? I’d take your tongue, but you’ll need that to give me the name.’ I leaned in close and dragged the knife slowly down his cheek, not cutting, but letting him feel the sharp edge against his skin.
‘Stop. Please?’ Another sob strangled his words.
‘Finger it is.’ He tried to grip his fingers tight into a fist until I brought my fist down sharply on the back of his hand. There was a crunch as his hand compressed between the armrest and my fist. When he cried out, I prised a finger free and held it against the armrest, my knife digging into the flesh.
Whole body quakes shook him against the chair as I let the knife press into the skin enough for blood to bubble against the metallic blade.
‘It’s Emily,’ Dave sobbed, his face as wet as his crotch. ‘Emily Reid.’
‘Good lad,’ I said, removing my knife and cleaning it off against his jumper. ‘That wasn’t so hard now, was it?’
Dave trembled in the chair as I put back on my jacket, smoothing out the slight crumples from laying it down. ‘And what did you give her?’
‘Passport, driving licence and a work visa for most of continental Europe.’ He sighed as I opened the door, the chilly breeze carrying a crisp packet into the room. ‘You’ve just cost me two-thirds of my wage. I hope you never find her.’
‘Better that than losing your dick.’
‘Aren’t you going to let me go?’ His eyes widened as I opened the door fully.
I walked over to him and smiled down as I opened my knife back up, his flinch extra satisfactory. ‘I’ll give you a chance, one hand freed and one favour owed. Understood?’
He nodded reluctantly as I slid my knife through one of the cable ties, his hand clenching as the blood flowed back into it.
‘And if anyone else comes looking, you don’t tell them a thing. Other wise you’ll choke on your own dick.’
Half way up the alley I stopped and took a deep breath, sliding my knife back into my pocket. It never got easier. Being good at my job didn’t mean I enjoyed it. Maiming people, killing people, terrorising people, it all took a chunk out of my soul. But it was all I offered. Without it, no-one would need me at all.
Now to track down the so called Emily Reid.
‘I’m coming for you,’ I whispered into the wind.
NINE
ESTHER
The murmur of voices startled me awake, a sharp pain ringing between my ears as I tried to sit up. ‘Where am I?’
