“As soon as your friends back at the park tell anyone you were taken, they’ll know you’re damaged goods.” Nick grabbed his jaw and turned it this way and that. “Judging by your face, I’d say someone’s already not too happy with you.” The guy sputtered, but Nick didn’t have the patience for bullshit. Not now. Holding the blade up, he studied it for a long moment. “What were we talking about before? Oh, right. What you did to try to make Charlie talk. Anybody here remember what they did to him?”
“No. No, man. That wasn’t me,” he spluttered. Shit. A dark stain spread on his pants. The acrid scent of urine whirled through the sea air.
“Well, what part have you played in this?” Nick flashed the blade. “Attempted kidnapping. Twice. We know that much.”
“I . . . I . . .”
“He needs some encouragement,” Beck said.
Rixey nodded. “He does, doesn’t he? Slide his hand over here.”
“What?” Tyrell screeched. “Okay, okay, I was in her house.”
“What were you looking for?” Nick asked, whipping the blade against Tyrell’s throat and wanting to spit in his face. Put a gun in the hand of a guy like this, he was tough shit. Strip him of it, and he was a big fucking sissy.
“I don’t know. I was just told to toss the place. Me and one other guy. We was just there to do the damage.”
“But there was someone else looking for something.”
“Above my pay grade, man. I swear.”
Fine. Probably true. Nick changed tactics. Just for the fun of seeing fear cloud Tyrell’s eyes like it had Becca’s. Nick moved the knife. This time, down to dig right into his navel. “Where’s Charlie?”
Tyrell shook his head against the deck. “I’m not sure.”
Nick dragged the guy’s beefy hand in front of him, held his wrist tight against the deck, and wedged the edge of the blade under his pinkie nail. “Where’s Charlie?” he said again, voice deadly even.
Tyrell grimaced. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“Not good enough.” Nick exerted enough pressure to inch the blade under the nail. Tyrell gritted his teeth and tried to hold in his reaction, but the nail was beginning to separate from the skin. Blood slowly pooled.
“He was at a storage facility,” he nearly screamed.
Now we’re getting somewhere. Jackwad had no way of knowing they’d already found the facility he referred to. Nick withdrew the knife. Jesus, didn’t take much to make him squeal, did it? “Explain. Do it right the first time or I’ll rip the nail right off. And I won’t stop there.”
“They were holding him at a storage facility. But I heard they were gonna move him. Okay?” he blurted out.
“Move him where? And when?”
Tyrell whimpered.
“Screw the nails. I’m going for the whole finger. That’s what you did to Charlie, right?” Nick pushed his weight down on the back of Tyrell’s hand and pressed the blade into the little space where the finger met the knuckle joint.
Tears leaked from the asshole’s eyes. Seriously? This was the kind of douchebag terrorizing Baltimore’s streets. Just a big fucking bully.
“I heard . . . I heard . . .” he gasped. “Sometime today. Company’s com-coming who wants to see him.”
“Moving him where?” Rixey exerted a little more pressure on the blade. It was clear the threat of violence was enough with this guy. Didn’t do a lot to assuage the vengeance Rixey wanted to rain down on him for the bruises he’d put on Becca’s beautiful body, though.
“That’s all I know. Moving him to see some BFD company boss wants to impress. And I don’t know who the company is. Been real hush-hush. I swear.”
That shit didn’t sound good at all. Who the hell from outside Church’s organization would want to talk to Charlie? And why?
“I forget anything?” Rixey scanned over his team. Negative reactions all around. “I think we’re ready to take out the trash, then. Hey, Capitán?” he yelled to Miguel.
“Yo!” Miguel said.
“What kind of water temperatures we got out here this time of year?”
“Aw, damn. High forties, low fifties at best.”
Nick shook his head. “Well, shit, Tyrell. I dump you out here like I want, you’ll be hypothermic in an hour.”
Tyrell’s eyes rolled back until only the whites showed. “No, no drowning. Man, please.”
“What exactly are you going to do to make it worth my while to leave you alive? Because I don’t want to have to fucking deal with you again. You understand me?” Nick planted the business end of the knife into the soft skin under his jaw.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll stay away. No more. I’m out.”
Nick nodded to Marz. “Well, just to make sure that’s true, why don’t you show Hollywood here that you could make him a star?”
Marz turned the phone around, a moving picture of the guy blubbering about Charlie’s location playing on the screen.
“I even think I’ve seen you. We even run into each other at the grocery store. Just once. And I’ll make sure Jimmy Church gets a copy of this. Understood?”
Sniveling now, Tyrell nodded.