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CHAPTER 6
Sam
When the man emerges, I take photos of him rubbing his white, powdery finger all over his gums. The current leader of the Bratva takes a dim view of drugs, much harsher than the last, and clearly, some people haven’t got the memo.
He was in there for a while, but it obviously wasn’t enough. He needs more. Entire parts of the city are like this. He turns, about to walk back to the bar. I slide silently from between the shelving units and wrap my arm around his neck. I clamp my other over his mouth, dragging him backward. He kicks and struggles, my muscles straining as I hold him steady, twisting him this way and that to stop his feet from connecting with the wall.
Carefully nudging the door open, I drag him into the dark and then let the door quietly close. He’s trying to bite my hand, but already he’s going limp from the choke. I let him go unconscious, then lay him on the ground.
By the time I’ve collected my rifle and aimed it at his face, he’s awake. Jackal sits in shadow behind him, eyes gleaming, a spot of eager drool catching the moonlight.
“Are you going to shout?”
He says something in Russian.
“Because that would be a bad idea,” I go on.
“What is this? Who are you with?” he grunts.
“I’m a friend of a lady called Angela Jones. I believe she owes you money.”
“Angela… Who the fuck? What the fuck?”
“Lower your voice,” I snap, then give him her address. “You were supposed to meet her tomorrow evening.”
“Oh, her. What about it? She owes me money.”
“Not anymore, she doesn’t,” I growl. “I’ve got photos of you licking up powder like a dog licking up scraps.” Jackal shakes as if he can understand me and doesn’t appreciate the comparison.
“B-bullshit,” the man stutters, his eyes going wide.
“Just now, when you left the bathroom. You couldn’t help yourself. They’ll kill you for that. Not because they have pride or because they really care about drugs. But when the higher-ups in the Bratva make a rule, little shit runts like you better stick to it.”
“She owes me five thousand,” he whispers, but his voice is trembling a little now, his hazy eyes focusing as he slowly sits up. I let him, keeping the rifle on his head at all times.
“That’s not a lot of money for a man like you.”
“It’s the principle.”
“You’ll have to let this one go. If you make a move against Angela or her daughter, you’re a dead man.” My voice is devoid of emotion. “This isn’t how you and your Bratva buddies threaten each other. This isn’t to make a point. This is a cold fact. I’m an operator, and if you hurt them…”
Hurt her, my woman. Hurt the only person I ever want in the whole goddamn world. Even with this worm sorted, how can she live in a place like that? That neighborhood is one of the city’s most crime- and poverty-ridden.
“Simple. I’ll take you out of circulation.”
The man nods, but his eyes still have a tiny glint—a flare of rebellion. I think he’s broken, but I have to be sure.
When I click my tongue, Jackal walks out from the shadows, his drool shining in the streetlight. He growls softly, knowing he’s allowed, and when I click my tongue again, he props his paws on the man’s chest.
The man can’t speak. He’s panting. Considering all the drugs rushing through his system, he might be close to having a heart attack, but I don’t give a damn. The darkness is hammering in me. I’ve found my woman, and this monster was going to hurt her. Jackal must sense my mood, letting his growl get louder.
“Easy, boy.”
He lowers it but compensates by making it deeper, bringing his snout right to the man’s face.
“Puh-please,” he groans. “Oh, fuck. Please.”
“I used to have a buddy, dead now. He’d say like wild dogs a lot. Apparently, it was a common turn of phrase in his hometown.”
Jackal climbs atop the man, going prone and digging his claws in. Jackal can be as light as a feather when he wants to, but now I can tell he’s becoming dead weight, letting the man feel his strength.
“One time, he said, ripped apart like wild dogs, but a few of us had to call him out on that. See, the thing is, wild dogs aren’t anywhere near as efficient as trained animals. A trained animal, like my friend Jackal here, can be taught to strip every single inch of a person’s body. He can be taught to go for the eyeballs and the genitals first.”
“I will never bother her again.” His voice comes out as a faint squeak. “E-enough.”
“You see how I’ve done this in the dark? You see how I’ve made sure nobody else saw? Your Bratva honor hasn’t been damaged. All you have to do, if somebody asks about Angela Jones, is to say she paid you twice the amount. It was a good deal. You couldn’t turn it down.”
