Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
I looked at Nikolai to see him grinning, his smile cold and devoid of any warmth. “You can tell us on your own, or I’ll get the information out of you the hard way. I know which route I want to go, but I promise it isn’t the one you want.”
Nikolai slid the knife down to the man’s carotid and pressed the blade in just enough it broke the skin and drew a thin line of blood.
I leaned in close, my mouth inches from Francis’s ear. My voice was low and filled with deadly intention. “You can cry and bleed and piss your pants all fucking night. We have all the time in the world to get the information out of you.”
Nikolai chuckled. “But you don't have all the time in the world. If I were you, I’d start talking.”
Francis sobbed harder, snot bubbling out of his nose. “W-What do you want to know?”
I gritted my teeth, my patience wearing thin. I grabbed a chunk of hair at the back of his head and yanked it. “Tell us about the fight last week. I know there have been rumors about Tatiana getting attacked and someone taking out the man who did it.”
“The lowlifes of Desolation can’t keep their fucking mouths shut,” Nikolai spat out.
Francis was quiet for a moment aside from the intermittent sounds of him sniffling. “Y-Yeah. Just shitheads talking. A new group coming up in their conversations. I didn’t pay any attention because, truthfully, I was tapping a vein and didn’t give a fu—”
Nikolai pressed the blade harder into his neck. “Last chance, motherfucker.”
Francis cried out and started stammering even more. “A-All I heard was that they… they c-call themselves The S-Stygian Syndicate, and… and… and the man who h-hurt your sister was p-p-part of th-their group.”
Nikolai dragged the knife away and stood to his full height, looking at me with a cocked eyebrow. “What kind of dumb fucking name is The Stygian Syndicate for a crime organization?”
“A group that will soon be buried in the underworld they derived their fucking name from.” I released my grip on Francis’s hair, and the piece of shit’s head slumped forward, the ropes keeping his body upright in the chair. “Who was the douchebag who hurt her?”
Spit and blood dribbled out of his mouth. While we hadn’t punched him in the face—no matter how badly both of us craved to—our men roughed him up quite a bit while extracting him from the trap house, getting him here, and then binding him to his current seat.
“What does it matter now? He’s dead,” he mumbled.
So much for not punching him.
I slammed my fist into the back of his head, and he made a choking sound as the force caused the chair to crash forward. The spindly legs broke from the impact, the ropes loosening. But Francis was too injured to do much but squirm like the slimy worm he was.
“Q. His name was Q Rahman, and he was one of their enforcers.”
Nikolai clucked his tongue. “You've been very helpful, Francis.”
“Please. I don’t want to die.”
I stared at his arms when he rolled to his back, splintered wood all around him like some sort of broken, fucked-up frame. The crooks of his arms showed dirty track marks and countless scars.
“Your extracurricular activities say otherwise,” Nikolai replied, and I lifted my gaze to my brother, seeing him move behind the junkie, the knife still in his hand. He crouched and grabbed a chunk of Francis’s hair, yanking his head back so he was forced to look at Nikolai when he added, “In fact, we heard you’ve been drugging up some of the girls who walk the streets and using them in deplorable ways.”
Francis shook harder, the truth of those words becoming obvious by the terror in his expression.
“You know how we operate. We have to make an example of those involved. Can’t let anyone think they can look at us wrong, let alone make a move against us, without me slitting their throat in retaliation.”
I felt a smile spread across my face, listening to Nikolai. I knew it probably looked cruel and cold.
“And you’re the start of getting that message across.” My brother stared right at me, a grin cracking and spreading across his face as he brought that rusty blade across the junkie’s neck. His flesh opened up in a macabre gap where blood immediately poured out and spurted like a broken waterline.
The druggie’s screams sounded gargled and wet as he bled out, his blood spraying across Nikolai’s crisp, white button-down shirt.
He let Francis go and stood once again, handing the blade to one of our men who stood near the doorway.
“Clean up the mess after you’re done cutting him up. And then leave the pieces out on the street near where you picked him up, so everyone can fucking see what we do to motherfuckers who go against us.” I watched as blood made a dark pool along the dirt-covered floor.