Read Online The Enraged (A Jonathan Quinn Novel) by Brett Battles - Free Book Online

Pressing himself against the stone wall, he ease forward until he could peek around the edge.
    What he saw didn’t surprise him in the least. The driver’s seat of the Audi was now empty, because the man—the suited man—who’d been sitting in it was walking cautiously down the sidewalk toward Peter’s place. His eyes were trained on the entrance, and while he wasn’t holding a gun, he did have a hand hovering near the buttons of his coat.
    You radioed your friends the second you saw me, didn’t you ? Quinn thought. What did they tell you to do? Can’t imagine it was to try to take me yourself. Keep an eye on me? Wait for them to get here?
    The man’s pace continued to slow as he neared the steps up to the building. When he reached them, he stopped and craned his neck, attempting to get a look through the glass door into the lobby.
    One step up. Another look. But it still wasn’t enough, and he kept going until he was standing right in front of the door. He leaned in, moving his eyes as close to the window as possible, his attention fully focused on the lobby.
    Quinn crept quietly over to the nearest parked car, crouched behind it on the street side, and peered through the sedan’s window. He had a perfect view of the watcher as the man leaned back from the glass door. A few seconds later, the watcher walked back down the stairs and started retracing his steps to his car.
    Keeping in a crouch on the other side of the vehicles, Quinn followed him nearly all the way back to the Audi, stopping one car shy and slipping around the front end so he’d stay out of view. The man stepped around the front of his car and walked to the driver’s door, his back now to Quinn.
    That was the moment Quinn had been waiting for. He closed in quietly, and as the watcher reached for the door handle, Quinn stuck the muzzle of the Beretta into the small of the man’s back.
    “If I pull the trigger, your spine will be gone,” Quinn whispered. “You’ll die, but you’ll bleed out first, and I guarantee it won’t be pleasant. Do you understand?”
    “You don’t have a chance,” the man told him. “Put it down and maybe—”
    Quinn shoved the gun forward, knocking the man against the car. “One-word answer. Yes or no. Do you understand ?”
    “Yes.”
    With his free hand, Quinn took possession of the man’s gun, a Smith & Wesson complete with suppressor. Since it would make less noise, he switched it with the Beretta, putting his own gun in his pocket. “Who do you work for?”
    The man kept his mouth shut.
    “I said, who do you work for?”
    No answer.
    Quinn searched the man for ID, but the only thing the guy was carrying was a hundred and fifteen dollars in cash.
    “We’re going for a walk,” he said.
    “Like hell we are.”
    The words were barely out of the watcher’s mouth when Quinn smacked the suppressor against the side of the man’s head. The watcher groaned in pain, and started to reach a hand up to where he’d been hit, but Quinn used the gun again to slap the arm down.
    “We’re going for a walk.”
    “Fine,” the man said, his teeth clenched, blood trickling down the side of his head.
    Quinn grabbed the back of the man’s jacket and pulled him away from the car. Keeping the gun pressed against the watcher’s back, Quinn guided him to the sidewalk, and over into the passageway beside Peter’s building.
    When they reached the back end, Quinn said, “Left.”
    Two buildings down, he found an enclosed area built to house a couple Dumpsters. A solid metal door was pulled across most of the opening. It wasn’t the greatest solution, but it was better than standing out in the alley. After Quinn pushed the watcher inside, he shoved him against the grimy back wall.
    “Sit,” Quinn said.
    The man took a moment before doing as ordered. Once he was on the ground, Quinn closed the metal door the rest of the way.
    “Now,” Quinn said, “who the hell are you?”
    The man scoffed. “I didn’t tell you