“Cat got your tongue?” I questioned, cocking my head to the side the slightest bit. “You seemed awfully confident when you were bashing X’s skull in with a fucking pipe. Where’s that confidence now?” I moved closer, and the younger boy remained frozen, his eyes still wide.
“To the kitchen,” I commanded. When he didn’t move fast enough for my liking, I gripped the front of his shirt and yanked him past me, sending him stumbling. He went down to one knee, but quickly pushed himself up, seeming to regain control of his fear. He spun to face me, but I’d already seen him grab his knife from his hoodie pocket. I gripped his wrist, pressing my thumb to his pressure point. He cried out, the knife falling from his grasp and clattering to the floor.
“Rookie mistake,” I said coolly. I walked him backward, my eyes steady on his as I slid my pistol back into its holster on my hip. “Sit.” The chair wobbled as I shoved him onto it. He tried to get up when I grabbed a zip tie, but I sighed and backhanded him so hard, it stunned him into sitting still.
He really was so fucking weak.
I got his wrists zip tied to the chair, but not before he began struggling again. By the time I got his ankles secured, he was seething and glaring at me with pure hatred.
“Who the fuck even are you?” he snapped.
I crouched in front of him, taking a moment to really take him in now that most of the hard work was done and he was secure. He paled at the coldness in my gaze.
“I’d say your worst fucking nightmare, but that feels a little cliché, don’t you think? A little too theatrical, and I’m not theatrical. But what I am is a man who’s fucking pissed his boyfriend is in the hospital because of a little rodent like you.”
“Boyfriend?” Ansel spluttered, but he thankfully caught on quickly. I’d be annoyed to find out he was both weak and stupid. “But I thought Preston was his boyfriend.”
“Preston is his boyfriend,” I said, nodding my head. “But they’re also my boyfriends. You thought I was sticking around for the fun of it?” I tsked, shaking my head. “You didn’t even bother trying to look into me, did you? That was your second mistake. Your first was targeting my men.”
“Who are you?” he breathed.
“Sector nine, Special Ops. Operator name Ghost,” I said. “And don’t say it doesn’t exist, kid, because I assure you, it does. I served years in sector nine, taking out people much more dangerous than you could ever hope to be. Do you know what happens to people like you who cross me?”
He swallowed thickly, the sound audible. He didn’t bother answering me. I was sure he was finally piecing everything together. He wasn’t making it out of here alive, and he was now beginning to come to terms with that.
“We’re going to play a game,” I said, standing and pulling my knife from my pocket. I flicked it open. “If you argue, lie to me, or refuse to answer my questions, I cut off a finger or toe or even an ear.” He looked green. “If you cooperate and tell me what I want to know, I’ll just cut you. And trust me, while it doesn’t seem like much of a bargain, I promise, one hurts way worse than the other.”
I twirled the knife between my fingers. “Why did you target X?”
“We have history,” he rasped. I waited to see if he’d elaborate, but when he stayed silent, I hummed and moved forward. The scent of his fear-sweat was strong as I cut his hoodie and shirt off of him. As soon as his skin was exposed and I pressed the tip to his chest, he sobbed. “W-wait!” he choked out.
I sliced the first line for an X into his chest, then stepped back, watching the blood slide from his split open skin. He sobbed, hot tears rolling down his cheeks.
“What’s your history?” I asked, uncaring of his tears, his pain, or his fear.
“We were in the same foster care home together,” he panted, then hiccupped. “Me, him, and Rex were roommates, and we all fooled around a bit. We swore to always stick together, but then, Xan just left. Disappeared in the middle of the night, leaving Rex and I to stick to ourselves.” He was rambling now, trying to minimize his pain, no doubt. “Every time Rex found him, Xan disappeared again. He was purposefully avoiding us. And then, I was a-assaulted by our foster parents the night before I aged out. Rex called the police thinking it would help us, but instead, because I had almost no marks and our foster mom was bleeding and bruising already, they arrested me instead.”
He drew in a shaky breath. “We all got separated because Xan left us. He always protected us. No one ever messed with us when he was around. But he abandoned us. And when I found him again, he and Rex were working together.” Rex was no doubt the hacker friend that’d wound up dead. “I got so angry. I was rotting in a prison cell while they were being buddy-buddy. Rex agreed to meet up with me, and when he told me how he and Xan reconnected, I just lost it. And I was so angry, and I vowed to get revenge for everything I went through.”
He stopped then, and I moved forward, finishing the X on his chest. Snot was running down his lips and chin now.
“So, instead of manning the fuck up and understanding that X left because he was trying to protect himself, you continued playing the victim,” I drawled. “He was a kid, just like you were. Just a kid who wanted to protect himself after all the hell he’d already fucking been through. But you don’t give a shit about that, do you? And look at you. Still fucking alone.” I tsked and shook my head disappointingly. “You not only killed the person who might have still wanted to be your friend, but you went after X in your little revenge scheme, dragging our innocent man into your little plan.”
I pressed the tip of my knife to his throat, and I watched as he realized this was it. I was about to end his pathetic fucking life. “Guess what, Ansel? I don’t give a fuck about your little pity story. I don’t care about what you went through or why you think you’re justified in your actions because X has been through enough, and you not only murdered an innocent person in all this, but you also targeted a mere fucking bystander solely because of his connection to X.” I brought our faces mere inches from each other, staring into his horrified eyes. “If you think X is cold for abandoning you to save himself, you don’t know the true meaning of a cold-hearted bastard, Ansel. Because me? I’m the fucking coldest of them all, and you went after my men.”
I pressed the knife in, watching as he choked and jerked, trying to get away all while I pushed the knife deeper and deeper into his neck. “I don’t give a fuck about you, your past, or your pain, Ansel. And I’ll gladly make you bleed all over my fucking hands for targeting what’s mine.”
With that, I shoved the knife in the rest of the way and watched the life drain from his eyes all while he choked and gurgled on his own blood as it spilled from between his lips.
Chapter 27
Preston
My back was stiff, and my ass hurt. Hospitals were clearly not big on comfort, especially for visitors. Or maybe it was a way for them to possibly make more money down the road because the chairs they provided for guests could only lead to back issues and circulatory problems.
I adjusted my position for the umpteenth time. My eyes were burning from the lack of sleep, but I couldn’t bring myself to even try to doze off. I was terrified if I closed my eyes and allowed myself to try to rest, I’d miss something. I wanted to be awake when X woke up. Needed to be. The wait was just agonizing with nothing but beeping and the sound of nurses, doctors, and other staff making their way up and down the hall outside X’s hospital room door.
Shane had been gone for almost as long as I’d been sitting there, and he hadn’t reached out once. I was trying to remain optimistic, to remember Shane was a highly trained soldier and could take care of himself. But then, I remembered I always thought that about X, and look where that landed him. In a hospital bed with a major concussion, thirteen stitches near his temple, and a bruised and swollen face.