Page 50 of Poison Aches

“No, no, sir, that’s not what I mean,” the idiot starts, blood gushing from his wounds, his broken fingers sticking out, limp and bloody. “I… I’ve been loyal to the Family for over twenty years now. I haven’t once done anything to betray your trust!”

“It’s not what you did,” I stare him dead in the eye with a smile on my face. “It’s what you’re going to do.”

“Yes!” he jumps. “I’ll do anything!”

Of course, when one wants to avoid death, they become desperate.

But often times, desperation is the thing that signs your death certificate, just like fear.

Fear is a soul destroyer.

It’s the life sucker.

Fear will have you lost and knocked out of the game before you even realize that you could actually make it.

As for me, I’m a dead man walking, so what’s there for me to fear?

“Of course you will, Jonathan Burton from Wyoming.”

He widens his one eye with shock. “You… you know who I am?”

“You spent years trying to erase that name. Used the Family’s resources for your own means, but tell me, which of your schemes led you to this… Sugar Plum?”

He pales even more. Pure fear filters in his eyes.

“Sugar Plum…” he starts. “It’s the side lady I frequent.”

Without warning or a heads-up, one of the shadows takes a pair of garden shears and snips off three of Freddy’s fingers.

A howl echoes in the room, but it’s drowned out when the vibrating starts again, debris raining down from the ceiling.

“Ahh!”

“You see, Jonny, Freddy, whoever the hell you are, I’m not my father and I’m not Grandfather. I won’t stand for lies, simple and straightforward.”

“Yes, yes, my apologies, sir! I understand! It won’t happen again!” he cries, bursting out the words in labored gulps of air.

“Good. Let’s try this one more time. Sugar Plum is a trafficking ring site you’ve been using to get rich… while using my fucking name!”

My words are soft, calm even, but the reaction they bring out in the room…

The sound of trickling liquid echoes in the room, right before the stench hits.

This fucker just wet himself.

“Sir… please… have mercy on my kids at the very least. They had nothing to do with this,” he bursts into tears, crying, stuttering over his words.

I watch him for a second. “Is he being for real right now?”

“He was a drama kid… right before his father killed his mother,” Kai answers flatly.

I don’t give a damn about that, but I do note how he doesn’t mind trafficking other people’s children and has the audacity to plead for his own. Fucking asshole.

There are so many traumatized people out there but many of them choose not to be shitty humans.

This fucker is as slimy as a snail, evades high risks, but what I know for a fact is that he isn’t the sharpest tool in the box.

I glance to my left. One of the shadows steps forward, grabs Freddy by his hair, and jerk his face up.

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