“Man, I don’t know anything, I’m telling you! I told your friend that!”
“My friend?” For some reason that strikes me funny as hell. This guy really is not made for this line of work.
“Please man, you got to listen to me.”
“I don’t, actually,” I say, reaching in my vest pocket for cigarettes. I slowly take one out of the pack putting the others on a small table. I’ll need them eventually. “I don’t have to listen to a fucking thing you have to say,” I add, lighting my cigarette. I inhale the nicotine, watching the asshole in front of me. “I only have to listen if you say something I want to hear. The only thing in question is if you’re going to tell me what I want to hear.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Did you know I don’t smoke? Nasty habit really. Hate the damn things,” I say exhaling the smoke, while watching the orange glow flicker.
“Man, I don’t think…”
“Only reason I pack smokes around is sometimes they come in handy. Do you know what they are handy for?”
“Man…”
“They make good lie detectors,” I say reaching the cigarette over and touching the burning ash on his stomach. To his credit he doesn’t cry out. We’ll see how quiet he is when I move the burns down to his shriveled up dick.
“Damn it…”
“We’re going to play a game.”
“A game?”
“You tell me what I want to hear and you won’t have to see what it feels like to have cigarette burns on your balls.”
“Fuck, man…”
“I really hope you tell me what I want to know. I don’t want to touch your nasty ass junk.”
“God, please listen to me…”
I put the cigarette back in my mouth and slide the knife out that I keep in my pocket. He watches as I pull out the blade. It’s just a small pocketknife, but then that’s all it needs to be. I put the cigarette in the ashtray on the table across from me, getting ready.
“Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to be impressed with the size of my blade.”
Asshole looks at me like I’m insane. Hell, he should. He has no idea how close I am to the edge.
“You’re not from Kentucky, so maybe you don’t know about them. Have you ever had Rocky Mountain Oysters?”
Again, that stupid look. Fucker.
“Never tasted them myself, but it’s basically deep fried balls.”
“Oh shit, man, seriously…”
“Doesn’t matter what really, pig, sheep, goats, even sniveling ass-wipe balls probably work. I don’t want to touch your shit, so I figure my knife can fix it so they don’t move around while I fry them. Sounds like a good plan to me. What do you think?”
“Man, I’m telling you, I don’t know anything!”
“Well, I mean, if you don’t want to do it that way I can just cut the fuckers off, it’s not like you’re going to need them.”
I take another hit off the cigarette, let the nicotine calm me, and take a deep breath. Time to get the party started. I’m giving up everything, might as well make it worth it.
Chapter 13
Nicole
Two days. I’m supposed to be married in two days. I want that more than anything, but I want it with Dani here. I want it without this feeling of impending doom. I stare at the engagement ring on my finger; it seems to mock me. Dragon doesn’t seem to be upset with me for keeping secrets. There’s that at least.
Today was supposed to be the day that Dani was to meet with Michael. I keep looking over my shoulder. What will Michael do when he finds out Dani isn’t showing? Does he already know she’s not here? I should have told Dragon about the meeting. I don’t even know why I didn’t.
I’m at the flower shop giving approval to the bouquets and tying up last minute details. Dragon sent Bull along to watch over me. I’m glad he’s here, he’s probably one of the brother’s I’m closest to, but since the accident, he has changed. I’m not sure how to help him, but I understand it. Totally.
“Going outside, Nic, I got to make a call. Don’t leave the store till I come back,” he grumbles and I strain to hear him. He doesn’t talk loud these days; it pains him. He’s got a nasty scar along the side of his neck and I know it bothers him.
“Okay, Bull,” I nod looking at the beautiful pink roses the florist has put together with baby’s breath and wishing Dani could see them. I hear the bell sound as the store’s door opens, signaling Bull’s departure.
“These are beautiful, Trish. I love them,” I say honestly and hope she doesn’t detect the sadness in my voice.
I hear her gasp and look up. The man who delivered the note from Michael is standing beside her with a gun pointed to Trish’s temple.
“Ms. Wentworth, I’ll need you to follow me quietly through the back without making a scene.”
“Like hell I will,” I’m not going a damn place with him. If I do, it’d be like signing my death warrant.