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The guy tried not to look like he feared Slade. After all, how much of a threat could he be chained to a pole with his hands bound?
“If I’m so valuable to your leader and the weapons dealer, why keep me chained to a pole? Why not just hand me over to him?” Slade pressed in his rudimentary Spanish.
“I don’t know what you did to piss him off, but he isn’t a person you want to be handed over to.”
Slade was trained to deliver stories that were as close to the truth as possible. He started talking while rocking side to side and darting looks around the garage.
“I was with a gang running guns over the border into the US,” he skirted the edge of truth. “I met up with a guy to make a deal. I brought him weapons. Even let him test them out.”
In reality, Blackout Charlie stopped a caravan of guns about to cross the US border. When they opened two trucks, all hell broke loose.
He rolled his eyes again, making sure the man in the garage reacted to the maniacal laugh he expelled too. The guy stiffened and backed up another step toward the door.
“When the dealer took out a weapon to test, I grabbed it out of his hand.” He lowered his voice to a softer tone. “I don’t know what made me shoot him. I just…wanted to see him bleed.”
The man’s eyes flared wider, and he booked it to the door.
“I killed a lot of people, and that caught the attention of the cops. When they came, I escaped, but I heard that they put the dealer’s brother away for alongtime.” He crossed the cement as far as the chain would allow.
“I don’t believe you,” the man said. “No one gets away from Roderigo.”
He tugged on the chain, pulling it taut and letting his muscles strain like a wild dog at the end of his leash. “I’m a real good shot. I can benefit your leader. Black Bloods, right? Give me a gun—I can prove my skill to you.”
The guy reached for the door handle.
So Slade was right about the situation. The arms dealer had a family grudge and sent out a hit on anyone responsible for putting his brother away. This guy was opportunistic. He recognized Slade, followed him and nabbed him from that bar to appear more important to the Black Bloods leader.
But this guy was a pussy, backing away from a man who was chained to a pole just because of a twisted tale about what really happened during that weapons bust and a little crazy acting on Slade’s part.
The guy twisted the doorknob and pushed it open. “My boss will be here soon. He’ll decide what to do with you.”
“Wait!” Slade called.
The guy turned.
“You sure you don’t want me to show you how good I am with a gun?”
As if replaying the story Slade told in his mind, the guy rushed out the door and slammed it shut.
Slade’s lips twitched in a grim manifestation of amusement. He was nothing but a petty pawn, a way for this kid to climb the ranks of the Black Bloods. Well, the kid was delusional if he thought he’d be climbing anywhere but into his own grave.
By now, Charlie knew he was missing, and they’d be on the hunt for him. It could take a little longer since Slade had taken steps to remain anonymous on this trip. Hell, he’d even booked the resort under a false name. But they would come.
He leaned against the pole, pressing firmly to ease the rock-hard muscles lining each side of his spine. He didn’t get his chance to take down his captor—this time. But Slade got a good read on his character. If he came back, he’d be even more cautious of Slade. Nervous too.
He only needed the guy to let down his guard one time.
Stepping away from the pole, he rolled his shoulders and considered his options. He put total confidence in his team. They had his six since the minute he signed his Blackout papers. Charlie was more than capable of finding him, even if he hadn’t left an easy trail.
Even if they found his phone, it wouldn’t be much help. He had the location tracking turned off, and good luck to whoever tried unlocking it. That complex code wasn’t easy to hack and if they got it wrong, it would lock the phone for triple the amount of time normal phones locked after an incorrect attempt.
He never took chances, and this situation was why. Though he never expected to be jumped, especially not on vacation.
The noise from the dirty, loud city throbbed in his ears. Banda music blasted. Horns honked out on the street but gave away no clues as to his location.
The garage possessed a coating of thick gray dust that came from the filth of the area he must be in, and it was sandy between his molars too.
Slade released a heavy sigh. He wasn’t a person who needed human interaction, but even he had to admit, being in this garage was getting old.
