Read Online Secondhand Smoke (Dartmoor Book 4) by Lauren Gilley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lauren Gilley
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the element of surprise pushing Jesse back at a stumbling run, until the kid tripped and landed hard on his ass on the mashed carpet.
Aidan shut the door behind them, approached more slowly, confirmed his theory about the stench of the place.
Mercy stood over their intended prey, one giant booted foot landing on the floor between Jesse’s thighs, one good stomp away from rendering him sterile.
“Hey!” Jesse shouted, “you can’t–” His exclamation turned into a squeal when Mercy started to lift his foot.
“Careful, garçon .” Mercy gave him his most frightening grin. “I don’t think you want to find out what I do for a living.”
Aidan crouched down next to Jesse, feigning casual. This was good for him, he realized. This was his element, and it was a nice reminder of his vitality. When he questioned someone with Tango, it was cool cop/sweet cop. Here, with Mercy – that was Rottweiler and handler.
“Okay, Jesse,” he said. “Here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna ask you some questions, and every time you try to jerk me around, this guy here is gonna jerk you around. Clear?”
Jesse looked between them, eyes huge.
“Pay attention,” Aidan told him.
“Who are you guys?”
“Erin Walton’s friends. So maybe next time you think about making her walk back into town, you’ll remember this here.” He gestured between the two of them.
“Whoa.” Jesse lifted a hand. “I didn’t make her do anything. I swear–”
“Nice try, but no.”
“But–”
“I know all about what was going on this morning,” Aidan continued, “up at Hamilton House. What I need from you is the name of the guy you bought the stuff from.”
Jesse looked at Merc, looked back at Aidan.
“We aren’t going to tell him you ratted,” Aidan said, growing impatient. “We don’t give a shit about you. We just want his name.”
“He…he didn’t tell me.”
“What did he look like?”
“Shorter than you. Kinda dark hair. Maybe.” He made a face. “It was quick. I wasn’t checking him out or some shit.”
What a waste of oxygen, this generation.
“How’d you get in contact with him?”
“Text.”
Aidan rolled his eyes. “I meant, what’s his number?”
“Oh…” Jesse hesitated…
And Mercy reached for the knife at his hip.
“Alright, alright!” Hands were thrown up for effect. A phone was withdrawn, a number sought on the screen. “He didn’t ever tell me what to call him,” Jesse said, and recited off a number that Aidan punched into his own phone.
“Sure you don’t remember anything else?” Mercy asked, edging his toes closer to the kid’s crotch.
“I don’t!” Jesse said in a hoarse shout. “I swear.”
Aidan stood. “If you’re lying, we’re gonna come back here and–”
“I’m not!”
“And keep away from Erin.”
“Whatever.”
“I’m serious.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
After they’d seen themselves out, and were headed down the front sidewalk, Aidan was struck across the shoulders by the considerable weight of Mercy’s arm. A
Aidan shut the door behind them, approached more slowly, confirmed his theory about the stench of the place.
Mercy stood over their intended prey, one giant booted foot landing on the floor between Jesse’s thighs, one good stomp away from rendering him sterile.
“Hey!” Jesse shouted, “you can’t–” His exclamation turned into a squeal when Mercy started to lift his foot.
“Careful, garçon .” Mercy gave him his most frightening grin. “I don’t think you want to find out what I do for a living.”
Aidan crouched down next to Jesse, feigning casual. This was good for him, he realized. This was his element, and it was a nice reminder of his vitality. When he questioned someone with Tango, it was cool cop/sweet cop. Here, with Mercy – that was Rottweiler and handler.
“Okay, Jesse,” he said. “Here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna ask you some questions, and every time you try to jerk me around, this guy here is gonna jerk you around. Clear?”
Jesse looked between them, eyes huge.
“Pay attention,” Aidan told him.
“Who are you guys?”
“Erin Walton’s friends. So maybe next time you think about making her walk back into town, you’ll remember this here.” He gestured between the two of them.
“Whoa.” Jesse lifted a hand. “I didn’t make her do anything. I swear–”
“Nice try, but no.”
“But–”
“I know all about what was going on this morning,” Aidan continued, “up at Hamilton House. What I need from you is the name of the guy you bought the stuff from.”
Jesse looked at Merc, looked back at Aidan.
“We aren’t going to tell him you ratted,” Aidan said, growing impatient. “We don’t give a shit about you. We just want his name.”
“He…he didn’t tell me.”
“What did he look like?”
“Shorter than you. Kinda dark hair. Maybe.” He made a face. “It was quick. I wasn’t checking him out or some shit.”
What a waste of oxygen, this generation.
“How’d you get in contact with him?”
“Text.”
Aidan rolled his eyes. “I meant, what’s his number?”
“Oh…” Jesse hesitated…
And Mercy reached for the knife at his hip.
“Alright, alright!” Hands were thrown up for effect. A phone was withdrawn, a number sought on the screen. “He didn’t ever tell me what to call him,” Jesse said, and recited off a number that Aidan punched into his own phone.
“Sure you don’t remember anything else?” Mercy asked, edging his toes closer to the kid’s crotch.
“I don’t!” Jesse said in a hoarse shout. “I swear.”
Aidan stood. “If you’re lying, we’re gonna come back here and–”
“I’m not!”
“And keep away from Erin.”
“Whatever.”
“I’m serious.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
After they’d seen themselves out, and were headed down the front sidewalk, Aidan was struck across the shoulders by the considerable weight of Mercy’s arm. A
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