Page 33 of The Hunted

15

Knox

Marcia called me this morning, and as much as I didn’t want to leave Raven, I needed to check out this lead on the possible whereabouts of Scarlett.

I pull into the driveway and shut off the engine, taking in the rich residential neighborhood around me. Sounds of a scuffle inside hit my ears before I even reach the door. I pull my gun from its holster and check the door to see if it will open. I turn the knob and push the door open slowly.

Crash!

I ease through the living room toward the back of the house as the noises grow louder. A familiar voice reaches my ears.

Ace.

Why the fuck is he here?

“Tell me where she is, mother fucker!” Ace roars. I turn the corner to see him break a canister from the nearby counter as he yells, unhinged, at a man tied to a chair. Not just any man.

Stan Miller. Judge Stanley Miller. Ethan’s father.

Fuck.

What the fuck is Ace doing? Why is he being so sloppy and careless?

“I swear to God, you piece of shit, I will fucking kill someone you love for every man that has touched her.”

The judge heaves with loud cries at Ace’s promise.

“Ace, got a minute?” I ask, poking my head in the doorway.

“Fuck, Bane!” Ace whirls around startled then strides over to me. “You scared the shit outta me.”

Sloppy. Fucking sloppy. This isn’t like him.

“Mind telling what the fuck you’re doing with Judge Miller tied to a chair?”

“Well, about that,” he begins. “I did a little digging of my own, put some feelers out, and it seems The Honorable Judge here has some dirty hands where Scarlett is concerned. I did a drive by to scout him out, and was about to call you, when the Judge here walked out, apparently leaving for the day. Needless to say, he was detained. This fucker knew Ethan was in trouble with the Corrado’s. It was his idea to barter Scarlett from what I can gather.”

Mother fucker. I was really hoping Marcia was wrong this time. I do not want to have to deal with the Corrado’s. They are serious players in the trafficking game. If they can move it for cash, they do. Drugs, guns, flesh, makes no difference to them. A buck is a buck.

I push past Ace and stand in front of the judge.

“I am taking this gag off. You scream, I shoot.”

I pull the silencer out of my back pocket and screw it into place. I yank the gag from his mouth, and he takes a huge gulp of air.

The muzzle of my gun presses into his forehead. His eyes widen.

“Scream and I shoot, remember?” I lift a brow as I wait for his compliance.

Tears trickle down his fat fucking red face as he bobs his head in agreement.

“Tell me where Scarlett Wyatt is?”

“I don’t know!” he snivels.

“Last chance, fucker.” I cock my gun, pushing the barrel against the center of his forehead even harder.

He sobs.

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