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The poor bastard cried in sorrow, shattered as if he had a heart and yet his cries intensified.
“A girlfriend?”
His sobs continued.
“A fiancée?”
He quieted.
“Bingo.” I smiled when his head shook and fell. “You see, Dario, I too have one. You know that. But do you know the difference between going after aprincippesaof New York, and soon the future queen of Miami to a nobody from your cesspool of waste?”
Dario gripped the chair’s metal arms. The rope around his wrist didn’t allow his tense posture to loosen, leaving his knuckles white.
“Do you?” Lethal calm swarmed.
He didn’t answer.
I pulled my gun and fired the white of his knuckles, shattering the bone and tearing skin. A finger fell off and a piece of skin dangled as it oozed in warm rivers of red, dripping.
“I have eight bullets left, and not one will be for your head.”
Tears and snot drowned his screams. His feet jumped struggling against the bounds around his ankles, and as he spluttered in misery, I feltnothing.
But I was just getting started.
I fired another shot at his intact hand, then another next to it.
“Ahh!” he howled. “Please, please!”
His ring finger fell next to his middle finger, while his pinky hung from a shred of flesh.
“I asked you a question. I won’t ask again.”
“No!” he yelled. “No! I don’t know.”
I chuckled cruelly. “Well, kid, the answer was simple.”
Dario’s gaze met mine as I straightened.
“She ismine!” I roared.
I shot both shoulder blades, and instantly his white shirt drenched in vivid burgundy. The more he bled, the deeper I breathed in, listening to the pain and screams like a favorite tune on repeat. And when they settled into sobs, I moved closer to him and penetrated his wound with my finger. I tore his flesh and ripped it apart.
His head snapped back in a wrenching and silent howl. He couldn’t take the pain much longer, not without passing out. As he gritted his teeth, I pulled my fingers away and uttered.
“Where is he?”
Head swaying, eyes fluttering, he was slipping.
I blasted a round into his kneecap.
The scum awakened in loud shrieks.
“I don’t know!” he sobbed. “I swear I don’t know.”
Desperately, he looked into my eyes as if I cared about his state. Puppy-pussy eyes of the man that he was.
“Thenwhatdo you know?”
