“What’s going on?” He tries to keep his voice from wavering, but he’s shit at it. To be fair though, I’ve tortured a lot of men. And almost all of them are scared at first, even the ones that didn’t have shit to tell because they were genuinely innocent. Poor fucks. But this prick is dripping with sweat and his shifty eyes are looking all around us for some hidden door that will lead him to safety. There’s no safety here though. Just me, my knife, and Tommy's gun.
I want Tommy to stay out of this one. There’s no need for him to get involved beyond keeping this fucker here.
“Listen, Louie. There are some things I need to know before I kill you.” His eyes go wide and he takes a step back. He’s closest to the entrance, so he’s thinking of running.
Tommy’s already got his gun on him and we all hear the click of him cocking it back. Louie’s eyes lock on the barrel and he nearly tips back as his legs go weak.
He shakes his head and I know he’s getting ready to deny it. His hands are raised in the air. “Hey. I wanna make this easy on us all, Louie,” I say as I reach into my pocket for a rag as I slowly walk toward him. He takes a step back and I shake my head. His breathing comes in short breaths as he starts spewing off, “Whatever you heard, it wasn’t me. I didn’t do it.” The desperation is clear in his voice.
I wrap the cloth around my fist a few times. It’s thick; thick enough so he won’t be able to bite down on my hand. The thought reminds me of my kitten. My sexy-as-fuck little minx, scraping her teeth down my finger. I close my eyes and will the images away. It only fuels my need to get this shit over with. I walk around him and let him retreat until his back is against the wall. We’re still almost halfway down the narrow alley. It’d be hard as fuck to see or hear anything from us, as long as he doesn’t scream. I look at my left fist, wrapped tightly with the rag and back at Louie.
“You’ve got one chance. Who’d you sell it to, and where’s the money?” I ask him clearly, but I already know I’m going to have to ask again.
He’s shaking his head, thinking he can talk his way out of this.
I’m quick to shove my fist in his mouth. He only gets a partial scream out before the rag mutes his frantic screams. He struggles against me, his hands wrapping around my wrist, trying to rip my fist from his mouth. I push my fist harder into his mouth, stretching his jaw. I need to be careful not to break it though. I need this fucker to talk. He’s a pretty decent-sized guy and he’s doing a good job of throwing my body off of him, but I pull out my knife and hold it to his throat, my forearm bracing his shoulders against the wall. That makes his entire body still. Tommy comes up to my right and holds the gun to Louie’s head. Louie looks between the two of us and starts fucking crying. It’s pathetic.
“It’s just two questions, Louie, then we get to move on from this. You had a chance. You should’ve taken it.” I gave him a warning, and he chose to ignore it. Now he has to accept the consequences.
I nod at Tommy. “Get his hand.”
Tommy grabs Louie’s right arm, still holding the gun to his head. Louie’s quick to pull his arm away, but I dig my knife into his neck, slicing his skin to make a point of what will happen if he keeps this shit up.
He tries to speak into the rag, but it’s too late for that. I’ll give him a chance in a minute, once the screaming is over with. Louie’s got his fist balled, which is a bad move on his part. It would’ve only been one finger, but with them all bunched together, I slice into his middle finger and thumb as I cut off his pointer. Tommy struggles to keep the fucker’s wrist up as I cut his finger off and the dumb fuck screams into the rag.
I let the finger fall and the blood drip down onto the ground as I wipe my knife off on his jacket and push it up to his throat again. I choose a new spot, one an inch up from the first cut. “Stop your screaming,” I growl out as I push my fist deeper into his mouth. He whimpers in response, tears flowing down his cheeks as he cradles his arm in his hands.
I talk while I wait for him to calm down. “We have you on tape taking the product, so there’s no backing out of this one. You know it. There’s only one way out. You just tell me who you sold it to and where the money is, and it’s all over.”
He cries out something muffled by my hand, but I keep it there until he’s calm.
I hold his eyes and wait.
When I take my hand away, his body sags and he closes his eyes. “The Cullums, they bought it.”
“Did they know it was ours?” Tommy asks.
Louie shakes his head no.
“Where's the money, Louie?” I bet the fucker’s already spent it, but Tony couldn’t find it anywhere in his bank accounts.
“I gave it to my brother.” Hearing his confession makes my heart sink. I know his brother has a problem with alcohol. They both do. His brother’s also a gambler though. And that’s not a good combination. I nod my head and wait for him to look me in the eyes.
“You stole from us to get your brother out of debt?” I ask him and I see a flash of hope in his eyes. Like maybe that’ll save him. But it won’t. As he raises his head to speak, I stab the knife through his neck until it comes out the other side and quickly push it up toward his face, splitting his throat open. It’s a silent kill, efficient and quick.
Once his eyes glaze over and his hands fall to his side, I let him drop to the ground. I shake my head as Tommy dials up the crew to come clean this shit up.
He should’ve known better. No one fucks with us for a reason.
“Damn, Anthony. I need to practice with a knife.” I turn around to look at my brother. He’s looking at me the same way everyone always has. Like he fears me, because I do this shit without thinking twice and without feeling remorse. It’s simple. He had it coming. It had to happen. Catherine used to look at me like that too; only sometimes though in the beginning. Not anymore. She would if she knew I did this shit. If she really knew who I was. When people break the rules, they die. That’s just what happens. Just like my mother. I’ve come to terms with it long ago. I don’t get why everyone else gets so shaken up over it.
I don’t feel any different than I did when we walked back here. A little bit of a high on adrenaline, but I just want to get the fuck out.
Tommy says, “I don’t think I could do that shit.”
“Sure you could, anyone’s capable of it.” My words remind me of my kitten. Her patiently waiting for me, and telling me all the things I want to hear. I don’t think she would ever hurt a fly. That’s just not the kind of person she is. But if she wanted to kill me, she could. I still expect it at some point. If I was her, I’d try to kill me. The thought makes my blood run cold. At some point she’s probably going to try to kill me.
“You alright?” Tommy asks. “It’s alright, Anthony. He had it coming to him.”
He had it coming to him. I bet that’s what she’s going to think when she gets the courage to try. I want to believe in her, but ever since that night with Vince, all I keep thinking is that I’m fucked up. That I was wrong. That this is destined to fail.
I school my expression and look at Tommy as I say, “Let’s get out of here.”