Rinley blinked, clots of blood falling into his eyes when his neck rolled.
"That's a good boy." I patted him on the cheek, meeting his eyes with a smile.
It was quiet when Wolfe stepped up behind me, crossing his arms while he leaned into the shadows, studying his prey. Unlike him, I was not interested in the mindfuck; I only cared about the inevitable crack that told me I had won.
"Threx?" He coughed, squinting to focus.
We did not bother covering our faces because we were far more of a threat in our skin than we were behind a job to this piece of shit. And this was personal. I wanted him to see my face.
"Raymond Michael Barrow." Wolfe flicked his cigarette, removing his club name and stripping him bare. "My father was a fucking asshole that attracted other fucking assholes, which is why I had Thay clear out most of them after he died. And you know what?"
Wolfe clung to the perimeter, his Chuck Taylors pacing the wall in unhurried strides.
"I cannot remember why we did not kill this dumbshit, punk fuck with a loud mouth and small dick." Wolfe paused. "How about you, Threx? Do you recall why we kept this one alive?"
"You mean besides the fact our dicks get hard for killing traitors?"
He rubbed at his crotch, letting out a low groan that probably traveled straight to Daphne's thighs.
"Yeah, besides that."
"He cried," I said, lifting his chin, savoring the tension.
Wolfe had been quiet today, living mostly in his head. The shit about Marianne was carving him out, but Daphne unsettled him more.
"It was dark that night," I started with a yawn. "The lightless kind that Seattle often brings when the neon can't keep up in the storm. We had taken out twenty of your dad's guys, and he was sitting in the middle of their bodies… Sobbing like a little fucking bitch."
Rinley's eyes shot open like a blade to the throat, and it was nice to see him so awake.
"Oh yeah, that's right. We had hearts back then." Wolfe smirked, coming up behind his shoulders. "But there was something else." He drummed his finger on Rinley's head. "Ah, that's right. He didn't respect the dead, so we put him on the cleanup crew."
"Solid leadership move," I praised, placing a water bottle of gasoline at my feet and slumping into the chair, keeping my posture relaxed and unaffected.
Keep looking at me like that, asshole, and I will give you a drink.
"Thanks," Wolfe took my compliment with a smile, leaning hard on Rinley's spine. "This first part is going to be easy, Raymond. I will ask you a couple of questions, and all I need from you is why. Which should be a breeze for a guy who never shuts the fuck up."
Rinley stiffened, the piss-yellow lamp bouncing off his features like a strobe light.
"We know you were working for Marianne and Karsten. Tell me why?"
"Just put me on the fucking wall," he ground out, broken teeth hanging swollen in his mouth.
Did Nathem have some fun without me? Dick.
"Baby," Wolfe whispered into his ear. "Now is not the time to show us your cock unless you want Thay to show you a magic trick. It is really weird, he just hits a guy in the back of the skull, and his fucking eye pops out."
"Ha," I stretched, bored. "Itiskind of like magic. I mean, you'd think there would be more blood?"
"You killed my father!" Rinley screamed, but the noise died in his throat.
"Raymond?" Wolfe cocked an eye at him. "You are referring to the father who took my brother's life, right? The fat one, with the mustache and crooked spine."
"You made me scrape his body off the club floor."
"That is what the cleanup crew does, especially those who are sons of traitors. Come to think of it." Wolfe stepped to the side, finally allowing Rinley to look at him. "I don't believe my brother Raife ever had the luxury of a cleanup, did he, Threx?"
"Nah," I shook my head. "It's too hard to pull bodies from the grinder."