I didn’t give a damn how much he screamed. I was stomping down on the bullet wound in his foot continuously until he gave me the answers that I wanted, and not one cell in my body had any remorse, either. This bastard knew where Derrick was, and what was being done to him, and I wasn’t going to deal with any bullshit. The longer he held out, the more real the possibility that Derrick might be dead. A tear slid down my cheek at the thought, but I shoved it out of my mind because it wasn’t going to happen. I would make sure of that.
I waited until the bastard in front of me got quiet again before I asked him a third time where Derrick was.
“You want to tell me now, or should I step on your foot again?” I asked him.
He glared at me from the little corner that he’d tried to wedge himself in to get away from me, but he’d only succeeded in hiding his wounded shoulder from me so I couldn’t punch it. I guess I must have been broadcasting my feelings strongly enough for him to pick up on, though. He looked fearfully up at me, and it made me feel damn good to see some fear and grudging respect on his face. Maybe I wasn’t so bad at playing bad cop after all.
I raised my foot because he was still clamming up. Maybe another kick would loosen his tongue. I was already in mid swing when he threw his hands out in surrender, looking like he was trying to protect himself. Ah ha, here we go.
“Wait!" he cried. "Stop. I’ll talk. I don’t know very much, OK? I’m just a lackey, but I can tell you what I know.”
"So talk," I said. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and waited for his answer. If he was stalling, I wasn’t going to let him get away unscathed. He hesitated. I was starting to get impatient. I growled low in my throat and took a step towards him, trying to be as menacing as possible. His eyes grew wider and he flinched away from me. I didn’t want to show him how much that pleased me.
“You got thirty seconds," I said. "Talk or I might start connecting the dots.” He took a ragged breath and stared at the floor.
“He’s alive," he said finally. "I don’t know all of the details, but I know that they want to keep him as a bargaining chip. We’re not alone. We’re working with another MC to get the Red Angels out of power. It’s revenge for us, too. You and that club killed our trafficking ring.” His eyes widened again, almost shocked at how much he'd spilled, and he clamped his mouth shut. I let myself smile this time. It looked like he’d told me too much. Good. Now I just needed to know where they were keeping him.
“Well, looks to me like you just became my bargaining chip," I told him in a low voice. "Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to take you with me, and you’re going to show me where they’re keeping him. Then, you’re going to show me how to get into your club, and I’m going to take Derrick and we’re going to walk out of there. If you’re lucky, you’ll survive.” I didn’t expect him to laugh, but laugh he did, and it really got my blood boiling within seconds.
Did he think that I couldn’t do it? Well, I’d show him and everyone else that I was just as tough as any dangerous man he'd dealt with in the past. I pulled my arm back as far as it would go and let loose. The punch made a satisfying popping noise, and his jaw jerked up and to the right. He looked at me like I was crazy, slowly raising a hand up to the part of his face that was rapidly turning red. I grabbed his pistol out of the waistband of my jeans and held it up. His eyes tracked the end of the barrel like his life depended on it.
“Now, I want you to tell me exactly where this other club headquarters is,” I told him.
He remained silent, and I calmly pulled the hammer back on the pistol. I was bluffing, but seeing as
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