Page 34 of The Hunted

“The Corrado’s took her months ago! I don’t know what they did with her! I swear! I swear, I don’t know anything else!”

“You’ve been protecting them for years. Tell me where Rico Corrado can be found.” My jaw ticks in annoyance. I would love nothing more than to kill this man. Today isn’t the time, and this isn't the place, though. I mentally add him to my list. It’s a well-known fact in my circle, that Rico Corrado blackmails judges, congressmen, and senators to maintain his empire. No telling what dirt he has on The Honorable Judge Miller here.

“He has a woman he stays with when he’s in town. She lives on Morningside.”

I lower my gun.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” he blubbers.

“Against my better judgment, I’m going to let you live, but know this, one fucking word about us or any of this, I will let Ace keep his promise.”

The judge’s eyes bulge, he looks at Ace who just gives his best boy-next-door grin and he says, “It will be my fucking pleasure to end you.”

I lower myself so I’m face to face with the judge.

“Ethan sends his regards.”

Judge Miller’s eyes widen again, and I raise my pistol and whack him in the head, knocking him unconscious before he can ask about his son. I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out the syringe. The cap goes in my pocket before I jab the needle in his fat arm and press the plunger.

“What the fuck was that?”

“A little cocktail I’ve been experimenting with out in the field.” I stick the cap back on and put the syringe in my pocket.

“I had planned to come here, ask the judge a few questions. If I found his answers to be lacking, the cocktail was to loosen his tongue. It also contains a little bit of Rohypnol, just enough to make the details of our visit fuzzy. Seems you beat me to it.”

“You’re a scary mother fucker sometimes.” Ace slides his hand over his face, wiping away the sweat from his tirade.

“You need to clean this broken shit up and get rid of any prints. You got sloppy on this one. Put his ass at the bottom of the stairs so it looks like he fell. I’m going to Morningside.”

“What if he remembers or tries to go to the police about what happened?”

“He dies.”

I turn toward the door and make my way out, crushing broken glass and porcelain under my shoes.

* * *

I pullup on Morningside Road and immediately spot the house. Three black Escalades sit parked out front, and two goons guard the front door.

Obvious much, dick head. Jesus, some of these men are all show.

I pull in behind the SUV’s and get out. The two guys at the front door get twitchy, and I see one of them talking into his wrist, as they both slide a hand to the inside of their coats, pulling out their guns and aiming them in my direction, they start moving toward me.

I hold my hands up as they approach but I keep walking. We’re in the middle of a residential neighborhood. I’m banking on the fact they don’t want to draw anymore unwanted attention.

“Don’t take another fucking step.”

I continue moving toward them. They’re almost on me with their guns in hand. I rush the man closest to me, punch him in the throat, and take his gun. I turn him and shove him at the second guard, then kick the side of his knee. I grab his gun as I pass. They’re both rolling around on the sidewalk while I make my way to the door and knock.

Another of Corrado’s men opens the door to the mess I’ve made in the yard, gun drawn, and points it at my head.

“You want to live? Put that shit down. I’m here to see Corrado.”

I glare at him, daring him to pull that mother fuckin’ trigger. I will end him.

“Escalara, lower it. Come in, Bane.”

On Rico’s request, his guard lowers his arm. I side-eye his ass, bumping his shoulder as I walk past him.

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