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“Not so fast.” Evan’s got the other one in his sights. The guy stops going for his weapon and raises his hands instead. “Where are they? Where did he take the girl?”
Before there’s a response, a scream from somewhere in the building tells us she’s on the second floor.
“No, no!” That’s all Dimitri’s guy manages to get out before Evan puts a bullet in his shoulder.
“Now.” Evan takes him by the collar, hauling him to his feet. “You’re gonna take us to her if you don’t want a matching slug in your skull. Get it?” He keeps the muzzle pressed to the guy’s temple while I disarm him, then shove him toward the doorway.
“I just work here, you know?” The guy smells like piss, and I realize he wet himself with fear. Of course, he did. A weak little pussy would hire guys weaker than himself, so he can feel superior. When he doesn’t move fast enough, I shove him harder.
“Move, unless you want me to do to you what he’s doing to her.” That gets him practically jogging across the empty club. He unlocks a door set in the wall and leads us up a set of stairs so narrow we can only walk single file. It opens into a wide hall with a room at the end, the door half-open.
“His office,” the guy whispers. I take him by the back of his collar and nudge him forward, standing behind him for cover. Evan’s behind me, checking to make sure the other rooms are free of threats.
The door at the end of the hall suddenly swings fully open, and three armed men rush out. “Don’t!” That’s all the guy in front of me has time to shout before they pump lead into his gut. When the shooting slows—they must realize their mistake—Evan and I return fire until all three are on the floor.
I let the now-dead guard drop at my feet before continuing down the hall. Frankie’s weeping loudly. The sound only intensifies my rage. “Don’t hurt me anymore,” she pleads as Evan and I approach, guns at the ready.
It’s just the two of them. I see Frankie tied to a chair and take her in with a single glance: torn sweater, hair hanging in her face, bruises already forming on her bared shoulder. A handprint.
Dimitri’s head snaps around when we enter. “What the—?”
A bullet to his knee makes him drop, screaming and clutching the spurting kneecap. It’s one of the most painful places to be shot, but not deadly. I want this to last.
So does Evan, clearly. He steps up close to Dimitri and kicks him in the wounded knee. “How’s it feel, fucker? Does it hurt?” Another kick makes Dimitri howl. There’s already sweat rolling down his face.
I bend, taking a handful of greasy hair in one hand and yanking his head back. “You think you can hurt what belongs to us?”
“You accepted a job!” he bawls. “You were supposed to—”
I cut him off by shoving the muzzle of my gun into his mouth. “What’s that? Did you want to say something?” Evan goes to Frankie and unties her. “What did he do to you?” I ask her.
She raises her head and reveals a bruise on her cheek. “He slapped me around and grabbed me a little. I’m okay.” She’s still weeping, trembling in Evan’s arms, when he raises her from the chair. He envelops her, one hand cradling the back of her head.
“Nobody will ever hurt you again,” he vows.
I jam the gun deeper into Dimitri’s mouth, making him sob around the barrel. “You deserve every moment of agony you’re going through, you sick fuck. A girl won’t let you pimp her out, and you put a hit on her life?”
“This is nothing compared to what you deserve.” Evan joins us, stepping on Dimitri’s wounded knee until he shrieks.
I look up at Frankie, who’s standing in the center of the room with her arms wrapped around her trembling body. “You shouldn’t watch this,” I warn.
She only stares at Dimitri, her eyes cold. “I want to.” He whimpers, eyes wide, pleading to her without saying a word.
“Fair enough.” I look at Evan, who shrugs before aiming for Dimitri’s crotch and pulling the trigger.
His body jerks, his screams deafening. He cups himself with both hands, but blood pours from between his fingers anyway. “Thought you were hurting before?” I ask with a laugh. A glance at Frankie reveals her smirking satisfaction. She’s not shaken by this at all. Pride swells in my chest. Our girl is tougher than she looks.
We let him drag himself across the floor, leaving a trail of blood behind him until he curls up in the corner. “Please… need a doctor… oh, fuck!” He looks down at his blood-soaked crotch and hands, wailing in agony. “I’ll fucking kill you for this!”
“Which is it? You want our help, or you want to kill us?” I stand beside my brother, who’s as unbothered as I am. Dimitri’s nothing but a bug who needs squashing. We should’ve done this from the beginning.
When we raise our guns, aimed at his head, he holds up his blood-covered palms. “Please, wait, wait! I’ll give you anything you want!”
“You’re right. You will,” Evan confirms before we both pull the trigger. At least there’s no more screaming.
I turn to Frankie, who’s watched every second. Now she’s trembling harder than ever. “Come on. We need to get her out of here.” I sneer one last time at what’s left of Dimitri before going to her, taking off my jacket and draping it over her shoulders.
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes bulge when they meet mine. “I didn’t mean to cause this.”
