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save their life. That tells me he’s probably under immense pressure from his employer and that whatever deal he’s part of involving this land must be big. If that’s the case, I can see why he walked away from the Pellaggio deal—if it’s big enough that he’s effectively willing to sacrifice himself for it, he wouldn’t have thought twice about turning his back on the mob.
    I’ll try another approach.
    “Who’s she?” I ask after a moment, gesturing to the woman next to him.
    “She’s my personal bodyguard,” he says.
    I look at her. She’s looked up now the conversation has changed to her. She’s staring at us both in turn with a curious detachment, remaining almost stubbornly silent.
    “You’re being protected by a girl? Jesus, Teddy, is that not emasculating at all to you?”
    The woman huffs in disgust at me, which I don’t acknowledge. Although at least I know I can get a reaction out of her, which might be useful later. I simply smile back at her, causing her to roll her eyes and look away. Jackson says nothing, although he clearly wants to. I’m trying to goad him into giving me information and he probably knows it. But his consistent reluctance is starting to become an issue for me and I need to put a stop to it.
    “Not your standard security detail, I’m sure you’ll agree,” I continue, turning back to Jackson. “So, come on… who is she?”
    He looks me right in the eye and I can see his inner torment. He wants to tell me everything, I can see it. He’s your typical, sleazy businessman—out to make as much money as possible, but self-preservation always comes first. His instinct is to do whatever he can to save his life, but there’s still something stopping him. Something he apparently fears more than me.
    He should really fear me more…
    In one swift movement, I stand and use my free hand to throw the table in front of me across the room. The spontaneous, violent act takes Jackson by surprise. He gasps in shock, and without warning, I shoot him in his other foot. He screams and blacks out.
    “Oh, Teddy…” I say. “Now that’s just embarrassing.”

8.
17:24
    HAPPY THAT JACKSON will be absolutely terrified of me when he wakes up again, I turn my attention to our mystery woman. Despite the commotion, she’s remained silent, but shooting Jackson again clearly took her by surprise as well. I can see her thinking… assessing her situation, trying her restraints, looking around the room, and finally coming to the realization that she’s screwed. She relaxes back in her chair and looks at me, clearly opting for a different approach to her situation, just like I would.
    “I can’t believe you hit a woman,” she says, eventually. She doesn’t sound pissed off—well, no more than anyone else would be after they’d been elbowed in the face. I think she’s toying with me, seeing what reaction she can get. I know the tactic very well.
    “Yeah, sorry about that,” I say, before stopping myself from apologizing further. “Actually, I’m not—you had a gun on me so you deserved everything you got.”
    “I only had a gun you because you were going to try to kill the guy I’m supposed to protect.”
    “Well, I was only going to kill him because he screwed a gangster out of millions of dollars.”
    “Oh, well, that’s alright then!”
    She wrinkles her nose and sticks her tongue out, and I find myself thinking we probably sound like a pair of bickering siblings. To be honest, we sound like Josh and me…
    “Why are you protecting him anyway? What makes him so special?”
    “I’m just following orders, like you.”
    “I don’t follow orders. I don’t answer to anyone—a benefit of being self-employed.”
    “Are you always this argumentative?”
    “Are you always this much of a bitch?”
    “Oh, your words cut me like a knife...”
    “There’s no need for sarcasm.”
    “There’s no need to tie me to a chair!”
    “You had a gun on me!”
    “What, that again? Get