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“I’m a truck driver,” I say. “I make deliveries for whoever pays me. Morgan International asked if I could do a delivery for them. That’s it.” Not that it matters now, of course.
“You’re fuckin’ one of ‘em.”
I nod because agreeing is the best thing to say to a man willing to yank out my fingernails just for shits and giggles. “It was a one-night stand. Nothing more, nothing less.”
He lets out an exhausted sigh. “Tiny, hammer. Now.”
“Hammer? That isn’t necessary. Leave the hammer where it is and tell me what you want me to say.”
“The fucking truth!” He yanks at his hair, pacing in front of me as if I’m the one ruininghisplans.
Tiny grips my wrist with one meaty hand, gripping a hammer in the other, raising it high in the air.
“Stop! I don’t know anything,” I shout, but it’s too late. The hammer comes crashing down in the middle of my left hand with a sickening crack. “Fuck!” Tears stream down my cheeks, and pain radiates all the way up my arm so bad I may pass out.
Ghost sneers at me. “Ready to talknow?”
I can’t take it. The pain is too bad. “Just kill me,” I plead. I don’t know anything about what he’s asking. And he’s not going to listen. I hurt so bad I can’t even think straight.
How did I get here? Who are these people?
His arm jerks again in a stinging backhand. “Wake up! I’m not finished with you.”
My head snaps back, and I think my nose is bleeding, but I can’t do this anymore. “I’m awake,” I say as blood seeps from my nose into my mouth.
“Impressive,” Ghost offers with an awful attempt at a smile and pulls out a revolver with a pearl white handle. “Did they ever say anything aboutLos Tres Colombianos?”
Fuck. Who?
My eyes are wide as he empties all the bullets into his hand, dropping them to the floor in front of me, one by one. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say and swallow down thepain, “maybe I just don’t have the answers you want because I’m not who you think I am?”
“That’s possible,” he offers and squats down to pick up just one bullet. “But I need to be sure.” Ghost stands to his full height once again, clutching the bullet between his thumb and forefinger. “So, what are those fuckers planning?”
“I don’t know.” The fear and adrenaline start to take hold, and my mind gets fuzzy. Blood pumps through my head, and it’s the only thing I can hear.
He grins, stepping in front of me and grabbing my chin between his thumb and forefinger. Ghost presses the gun to my temple. “Have you heard them talk about a man named Arturo Rojas?”
“No.” I close my eyes tight and wait for him to squeeze the trigger and for my brain to go flying across the room.
“Wrong answer. Again.” His grip changes on the gun, and a loud clicking noise sounds to my left.
My heart skips, and I let out a shaky gasp as more tears fall. “Fuck.”
“That’s one. Try again.”
“What do you want me to say? I promise. I don’t know anything.” I’m exhausted. I wish this psycho would kill me. The pain is horrible.
He squeezes again, and it’s another dry click.
“Oh fuck,” I gasp, panting as if that’s another life saved…or lost. I’m not even sure anymore.
“Fuck this,” he growls and snatches the cell phone from Tiny’s back pocket, glaring at me intensely. “You better hope they’rewilling to meet our terms, or you are so fucking dead, you’ll wish one of these bullets had pierced your skull.”
His words scare the fuck out of me, but they also bring home another fact. I should already be dead, but I’m not, so what’s he doing? “I thought I was dead anyway.”
“Not yet,” he laughs. “And don’t worry,” he grins, showing me the bullet that was supposed to be in the chamber. “I don’t do easy deaths, sweetheart. Do you know what a tough bitch like you will fetch on the black market?”
I don’t and don’t wanna know.
