Page 47 of Poison Aches

“I fucking knew it!” he shouts. “You thought I wouldn’t discover who you are? Now that I’ve outed you, do you think you’re going to get away with this?”

The chains dangle as he fights against them, an obvious move to try and intimidate the people around that he can’t even see.

His right arm is limp and deformed. The freaking boxers he’s wearing look like an infected medical waste bag.

“You took me and beat me up, that’s a declaration of war! This will not go unanswered.”

A low, humorless chuckle escapes my lips.

“W-who… who’s there?” the douchebag stutters. “You don’t scare me! Come out and face me, if you have the guts!”

Kai is by my side in a heartbeat. “Sir, do we proceed?”

“Wait,” I mutter.

“Come out! I know you’re there, desperately trying to strategize, maybe even find a mask to hide your ugly face from me seeing you, but I swear on my fucking life, you won’t live!” he screams.

Interesting.

“He’s got quite a pair of lungs in him,” I mutter. “I’m sure someone more deserving could use them.”

“I’ll check the market,” Kai says simply.

“Children.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’m such a person. I’m not moved by this act of inhumanity of the black market at all.

But when I’m back in Westbrook Blues, that part of me is tucked down deep within the layers of civility and ‘etiquette'.

“How long?” I question.

“He’s been shouting and foaming at the mouth for three days now,” Kai offers.

“Has he?” I just flew in tonight to deal with him. “Then he’s nice and tenderized now.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What are you saying!” the idiot shouts again. “I can hear you whispering and cowering, hiding in the dark! Do you think you can make a move on the Family like this?”

Make a move on the Family… hmmm, these are the usual things lackeys say when they know they have no other way out. But this fucker is not a lacky… he’s just pretending to be one to fool me.

Unfortunately for him, I know how to ‘draw’ everything out of liars.

Including secrets and little twisted fears they only whisper to themselves.

“Come out, you sonofabitch! Face me and just know you’ll be facing death!”

At that comment, I really want to burst out laughing.

Facing death in one moment and facing death every second of your life are two vastly different things.

And in this world, fear is currency.

“Whatever you think you’ll achieve here, I hate to break your bubble, but it won’t ever happen! Your blood and that of what’s dear and near to you will shed like a river!”

I smirk.

---