nine-nine-nine. I didn’t know what else to do. I doubted they’d try very hard to find Brent’s killer, and even if they did, they wouldn’t catch Red. They never did. I just didn’t know what else to do, and if I left, my DNA was all over the place. They’d think I’d done it.
I slumped on the grimy tiles of the bathroom floor, shivering, and put my head on my knees. Grief made a fist around my heart, and I choked on a sob. Sure, Brent had been a douche and had gotten me into a world of shit time and again, but he was my uncle, my only family left. I had nobody. I was totally alone.
I choked again, thought I might throw up, but I swallowed it back and tried to breathe deeply. I tried to think, but my mind was a mess, and I kept picturing Brent’s body lying out there, shredded. All I could think was, Red did this. Red killed Brent . The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.
White-hot rage overtook my grief, and I suddenly wanted to hunt down Red and kill him myself. I’d shove his fucking knife right up his fucking arse. I’d make him beg for mercy and then cut out his tongue.
Someone knocked on the door, and I shook off my fit of fury. I got to my feet unsteadily, surprised by how fast the cops had made it there, but as soon as I opened the hotel room door, I knew I’d made a huge mistake. It wasn’t the cops.
Two big, tough-looking guys stood in the hallway, dressed in dark clothes and oversized sunglasses. One of them had slicked-back hair. The other had a long, jagged scar on his face. I recognised them, though I didn’t know what their names were. I just knew they worked for Red, and that meant I was in deep shit.
Too late, I tried to slam the door, although, since I’d busted the lock when I’d smashed it open, I didn’t see what good it would do. Didn’t matter anyway. Scarface shoved the door back at me, hard, making me stumble, and pushed inside. His buddy, Slick, followed, and I backed up, looking around for some sort of weapon and knowing it was useless. If there had been a weapon in the room, Brent would have used it.
I tried a different tactic. “Guys, I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m not involved in this. Brent is dead.”
Slick grinned, showing two missing teeth. “We know he’s dead, kid. We’re here to collect the money he owes Red.”
I blinked. “Eh, dunno how to you plan on doing that, seeing as dead guys tend to have a hard time paying their bills.”
Scarface chuckled darkly and reached into the inside pocket of his ratty leather jacket. I stubbornly didn’t flinch, but my heart was pounding. I needed a way out of there, and fast, but they were blocking the doorway. My only other option was to smash out the window and jump. It was a second-floor room, but I’d fed well last the night before, and I was strong. I could make it.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance. Scarface pulled a knife out of his jacket, and I felt the blood drain from my face. It was turning out to be a really bad fucking day, and it looked as if it was about to get worse.
“Listen here, kid,” Scarface growled. “This doesn’t have to be ugly. You just get Red his money, and we’ll leave you alone. We’ll consider Brent’s debt settled. Otherwise…well, things are going to get unpleasant for you.”
I should have nodded and kept my mouth shut, but being me, I did the stupid thing. I looked at the mangled mess of my uncle’s body on the bed and all the blood, and I felt my rage come rushing back. It wasn’t enough to kill Brent—Red had had him sliced him up like roast beef and then sent these bastards, his goons, to collect the rest of the money from me. Red knew me. He knew I paid Brent’s debts. If he couldn’t get the money from Brent, he’d get it from me, and he’d use my uncle’s death as motivation for me to cooperate.
Red was a sick fuck, a true minion of the fucking devil, and I wasn’t giving him one fucking penny. If he wanted his money, he’d
I slumped on the grimy tiles of the bathroom floor, shivering, and put my head on my knees. Grief made a fist around my heart, and I choked on a sob. Sure, Brent had been a douche and had gotten me into a world of shit time and again, but he was my uncle, my only family left. I had nobody. I was totally alone.
I choked again, thought I might throw up, but I swallowed it back and tried to breathe deeply. I tried to think, but my mind was a mess, and I kept picturing Brent’s body lying out there, shredded. All I could think was, Red did this. Red killed Brent . The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.
White-hot rage overtook my grief, and I suddenly wanted to hunt down Red and kill him myself. I’d shove his fucking knife right up his fucking arse. I’d make him beg for mercy and then cut out his tongue.
Someone knocked on the door, and I shook off my fit of fury. I got to my feet unsteadily, surprised by how fast the cops had made it there, but as soon as I opened the hotel room door, I knew I’d made a huge mistake. It wasn’t the cops.
Two big, tough-looking guys stood in the hallway, dressed in dark clothes and oversized sunglasses. One of them had slicked-back hair. The other had a long, jagged scar on his face. I recognised them, though I didn’t know what their names were. I just knew they worked for Red, and that meant I was in deep shit.
Too late, I tried to slam the door, although, since I’d busted the lock when I’d smashed it open, I didn’t see what good it would do. Didn’t matter anyway. Scarface shoved the door back at me, hard, making me stumble, and pushed inside. His buddy, Slick, followed, and I backed up, looking around for some sort of weapon and knowing it was useless. If there had been a weapon in the room, Brent would have used it.
I tried a different tactic. “Guys, I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m not involved in this. Brent is dead.”
Slick grinned, showing two missing teeth. “We know he’s dead, kid. We’re here to collect the money he owes Red.”
I blinked. “Eh, dunno how to you plan on doing that, seeing as dead guys tend to have a hard time paying their bills.”
Scarface chuckled darkly and reached into the inside pocket of his ratty leather jacket. I stubbornly didn’t flinch, but my heart was pounding. I needed a way out of there, and fast, but they were blocking the doorway. My only other option was to smash out the window and jump. It was a second-floor room, but I’d fed well last the night before, and I was strong. I could make it.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance. Scarface pulled a knife out of his jacket, and I felt the blood drain from my face. It was turning out to be a really bad fucking day, and it looked as if it was about to get worse.
“Listen here, kid,” Scarface growled. “This doesn’t have to be ugly. You just get Red his money, and we’ll leave you alone. We’ll consider Brent’s debt settled. Otherwise…well, things are going to get unpleasant for you.”
I should have nodded and kept my mouth shut, but being me, I did the stupid thing. I looked at the mangled mess of my uncle’s body on the bed and all the blood, and I felt my rage come rushing back. It wasn’t enough to kill Brent—Red had had him sliced him up like roast beef and then sent these bastards, his goons, to collect the rest of the money from me. Red knew me. He knew I paid Brent’s debts. If he couldn’t get the money from Brent, he’d get it from me, and he’d use my uncle’s death as motivation for me to cooperate.
Red was a sick fuck, a true minion of the fucking devil, and I wasn’t giving him one fucking penny. If he wanted his money, he’d
Similar Books
