SILAS
I wanted to see his eyes.
I wanted to see exactly how much his soul had cost.
Was a bag of cash and a bus ticket really worth more than his life?
He finally looked up, his eyes wide and bloodshot.
“Mr.
Blackwood, please.
It’s not what it looks like.”
I shook my head.
“I expected better from you, Peter.
You were smarter than this.”
”You should have known better than to talk to the port authorities,” Tony said.
He stepped forward and handed me a pistol with a silencer attached.
I took the weapon, its weight familiar and cold in my hand.
I didn’t point it at him yet.
I just looked at it, then back at the man who had traded years of loyalty for a head start to the border.
“Who approached you?” I moved closer until I was standing right over him.
“Give me a name, and maybe this ends quickly.”
I reached down, grabbing a fistful of his damp black hair and forcing his head back.
Peter immediately began to sob, the sound echoing off the cold walls.
“Please, Mr.
Blackwood!
I have a family—”
”Wrong answer,” I cut in.
I didn’t hesitate.
I aimed and pulled the trigger.
A muffled thud filled the room as I shot him in the left thigh.
He arched in the chair, letting out a scream of pure agony that tore through the freezing air.
I watched him, my expression unchanging.
I felt the heat from the barrel radiating through my grip.
It was the only thing in the room that wasn’t cold.
“The next one goes in your right thigh,” I said, my voice steady despite his wailing.
“The name, Peter.
I won’t ask a third time.”
Peter’s eyes rolled back in his head, and the sharp, sour smell of urine filled the air.
He was losing control of more than just his voice.
He was pissing himself.
“Again, who approached you?” I was losing my patience.
“No one.
He was still lying.
“You should know me better than this, Peter.” I didn’t even aim this time.
I just lowered the barrel.
I pulled the trigger again.
The second muffled thud hit him in the right thigh.
He let out a strangled, high-pitched scream, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe.
I stood there watching the pool of blood grow at his feet.
The red was staining the gray concrete, spreading across the floor, claiming more of the room for itself.
“I have ten more rounds in this magazine,” I told him.
“You have two arms and two feet left.
Do the math.”
I pressed the barrel of the gun against his forehead.
He whimpered, the cold metal making him shake so hard the chair rattled against the concrete.
“You know me, Peter.
I won’t hesitate.”
He nodded frantically, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
He finally broke.
“They…
they didn’t say who they were,” he stammered, his voice breaking as he sobbed.
“But they said they were a new rival.
They’re coming for the Blackwoods.
They wanted to make a show of this so you’d notice them.
They said they’d do worse…
much worse.”
”So, some rookies looking for attention?” I pulled the gun back, feeling a wave of disappointment.
I had expected a real threat, not a group of amateurs trying to make a name for themselves.
“Yes!
Yes!” Peter cried.
Tears and snot dripped down his face, mixing with the sweat and blood.
“They mentioned a name.
Dominic.
That’s all I know, I swear!
Please, Mr.
Blackwood!”
He let his head hang low.
I looked at Tony.
The name Dominic didn’t ring any bells.
It had been years since we’d had actual rivals in this business, so I had expected something more substantial than an unknown name attached to a rookie group. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
If this man was bold enough to intercept a Blackwood shipment, he was either very brave or very stupid.
“So you betrayed me for some rookie group?
After working for me for years?”
I stepped back, looking down at the mess on the floor.
Peter had given me a name, but in my world, a name doesn’t buy you a second chance.
It only buys you a quicker end.
“I’m sorry, Mr.
Blackwood.
The—the pay was too good to pass up.”
”This is also too good to pass up.”
I raised the gun to his head again.
Peter flinched, squeezing his eyes shut as he screamed, “Please, Sir!
Please!”
At the last second, I shifted my aim.
I pulled the trigger twice, hitting him in both arms.
The muffled shots were followed by the wet splatter of blood against the concrete.
“You’re lucky the port authorities didn’t seize that shipment,” I growled over his agonizing screams.
“If they had, you’d be a dead man already.”
He slumped in the chair, groaning and twitching as the blood soaked through his shirt.
He was a ruin of a man, barely holding onto consciousness.
I wiped a small speck of blood off my hand.
My mind was already moving past this freezing warehouse and back to the city lights.
“Tony,” I said, checking my watch.
I was already late.
“Clean this up.
Make sure he doesn’t die.
Not yet.
I’m not done with him.
Find out who this Dominic is.
I want to know where he sleeps and who he talks to.
I want a name and a face as soon as possible.”
I looked at the man in the chair one last time.
“If this rookie group wants a show, I’ll use Peter to give them one.
I want him to watch when we find this Dominic.
Then you can finish it.”
Tony nodded, signaling the men in the shadows to move in.
I walked toward the exit, my mind already racing.
Dominic.
I had never heard the name, but he had made a massive mistake.
He wanted my attention?
He was about to get it.
And he would pay for every second of this little show he’d put on.