Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
I sighed audibly before speaking, in a low voice. “Uncle Toby.”
Crispin was bugging out at me, his eyes bulging. I didn’t want to hear whatever he was going to say so I shoved tape back over his mouth. He tried yelling through it.
I took the phone and walked away, noting how quiet it was now.
“Who put the contract on me, Uncle Toby?” I went over, bending to pick up a knife that I’d stripped from Penn earlier. I twirled it in my hand. “You can answer me in the next five seconds, but I’ll let you know, every minute you waste my time will cost you. I’ll start stripping inches of skin off one of your boys.”
Crispin went pale again. I didn’t think he had any more color in him. As I neared him, he tried jerking the chair away from me. It started to tip back, but I stopped it with my foot and slammed him back down.
“Jacob.”
I had to smile. He sounded so cautious now. “This is karmic. Isn’t it, Uncle?” I flicked the knife in my hand, letting it spin in circles on my palm. “You were the one who turned me into a killer. Now here I am. Using some of those skills on your own boys. That is, unless you stop wasting my time and give me the name I need. What are you going to do, Uncle Toby?”
I leaned forward, pressing the edge of the blade to Crispin’s leg.
He went so still, only barely breathing.
I forgot the power that filled you in these types of interrogations. I forgot the adrenaline. It was addicting.
“You got my son?” he asked, quietly.
“I got both of them. They’re alive.” I kicked at Crispin’s chair, enjoying the wave of fear that rolled from him. “For now.”
“What’s this he’s saying? Someone’s trying to kill you?” He tried to sound casual.
I grunted. “Wrong move, Uncle.” I tore Crispin’s pants, ripping them until there was a good chunk of skin exposed, and I put the knife to it.
My cousin began screaming. It was muffled by the tape, but it was loud.
I moved the phone back to my mouth, speaking as Crispin continued screaming, “You hear that, Uncle? You should be able to guess what comes next, since you’re the one who taught me the five main steps of torture.”
“Jesus Christ! Stop, Jacob. Stop. Please . . .”
I stared at the phone. That was different. I had never heard my uncle beg.
I liked it. I wanted to hear more.
“You know”—I pulled the knife away, straightening up. Maybe we’d go down this one road first—“I got to thinking about the logistics of when the board appointed me head of the family. You said it yourself. You still think of me as a kid, but you’re forgetting what I was before we left. Aren’t you? You’re forgetting the reason I left in the first place. Justin’s gone now.”
He was quiet again.
I smiled into the phone, knowing it connected to the emptiness inside of me. “I’m no longer a cop, Uncle. And here I am. Picking up the old trade. It’s like riding a bike again. I forgot the rush you get from torture—”
“Jacob, stop! Stop. Please . . . Please. Just. Fucking stop. I’ll tell you whatever you want.”
I met Crispin’s eyes. He was looking at me like he’d never known me, as if I’d sprouted a second head. Then again, maybe he never knew that his father began molding me into being the family’s own personal assassin because at the end of the day, that’s where I thrived.
“What do you want to know? I’ll—what do you want to know, Nephew?”
“Let’s start with Nicolai. How did he become appointed the head? Because the last I knew of him, he wasn’t on top of the food chain. He was on the bottom, and somehow he shot up to the top spot. Who’s really calling the shots, Uncle? Is that who put the hit out on me?”
His tone went flat, but he sighed. “I think you know better than to have this conversation over the phone—”
I cut him off, impatient. “Stop fucking with me or I will start cutting. You know if I start, I’ll finish. That’s how you trained me. Remember? Stop with the games. Crispin’s phone is encrypted. You have him here to oversee the storage and distribution you use for this nightclub. Saving your boy’s life isn’t enough incentive? Fine. I’m aware of what you have in this basement. It would be easy for me to drop a tip to the right person. Let them know the drugs, the black-market goods you store here. It’s up to you for that one. You want me to call law enforcement? Or Ashton Walden?”
He got quiet, real quiet.
I showed my teeth to his son, who was watching me so warily now. “I’m pissed off, and I have nothing left to lose.”