Page 124 of The Vigilant

The idea was still so sharp—so striking—it felt like a different kind of weapon that he’d buried into my chest. One that could give me strength if I was strong enough to use it.

“Tell us where Mara Chen is.” And then Tynan hit him again.

“You have no idea what you’re doing—who you’re going against.” He spat blood onto the bright white floor.

“I don’t fucking care.” Another hit. “Where did you take her?”

“Screw this,” I muttered and pushed past Tynan.

“Sutton—”

Creed stiffened when I cut in front of him and bent so I was eye level with the pig.

“You only get one chance with me,” I warned and pulled my knife from where I’d twisted it up into my hair. “Where is Mara Chen?”

I aimed the tip of the blade straight at his forehead. To his credit, he continued to stare straight at me like I didn’t have the balls to do it.

“Suit yourself.” I sliced through his flesh, watching the line pool with deep red, ignoring the way he shook as I finished up the curve of the P. “How about now? Anything to say?”

“You’re insane,” he said, and I smiled at the compliment.

“Then I guess we keep going.”

This time, he shouted at the fracture of his skin.

“I don’t know!” he yelled at me, and I pretended like his volume meant nothing.

“Bullshit.” I dragged the knife straight down the center of his forehead in an I. “Now stay still and let me finish you up…pig.”

He stiffened—and not in the way that meant he suddenly decided to cooperate.

“It’s you.”

My head cocked, and I paused, the tip of my knife just about to start the G.

“You carved up Little Dog.” His face turned venomous.

“Since the first man I carved up is dead, I have to assume by Little Dog, you mean Jack Kang.”

Another nostril flare. I was getting somewhere.

“Who is he to you? What was he doing in that apartment?” I pierced his skin, and he snarled again like a rabid dog.

“You fucking cunt.”

With a deft flick of my wrist, I flipped the knife in my hand and rammed it into his thigh.

He roared in pain, shaking and wrenching against the chair, rocking it with his weight. But I didn’t move.

“Are you done?” I asked flatly and then pulled the knife from his leg, watching the blood seep and making the fabric of his suit pants shine.

He breathed heavily, saying nothing more but staring at me with wild eyes.

“Tell me or I’ll give you a matching one.”

“I don’t know where the fucking girl is,” he said, spittle flying from his locked teeth. “The Wah Ching handed her over after the attack on Little Dog.”

That was weeks ago. “Then who were you holding in the penthouse? Who was Kang guarding?”

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