Page 33 of A Wife's Duty

The two men with him pulled their weapons.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” Boone said. “I click this button, and this whole joint blows up.”

“You’re not crazy enough to do that,” Jimmy said. “You’re inside.”

“Yeah, but you see, between you and me, I don’t give a shit about living or dying, and if that means I get to take out scum like you, I’m all for it.” He looked Jimmy straight in the eyes. “I’m not afraid to die. Are you?”

Jimmy was already sweating. He had a thickening waist, receding hairline, and chubby fingers, which the gold rings he wore seemed to enhance. Those were the things he noticed about him.

“Fine. Fine. Put your guns down, boys.”

“What is the deal you have with Bonaldi?”

“I’m not telling you a fucking thing.”

Two bullets, and his goons were dead. Their bodies fell to the floor and Jimmy looked panicked.

“Now, you don’t have to save face and pretend you’re in charge here. Let’s face it, I could have killed you the moment you walked in here, but I have a motto. I give people a choice. You had a choice just to comply, answer my questions, and it would have saved these men. You didn’t.”

“What the fuck?” Jimmy asked.

“Now, you tell me what I want to know,” he said.

“Who the fuck are you?”

He fired the gun, and Jimmy screamed, collapsing to the ground. The noise he made was so damn grating on the nerves.

“I can do this all day long. Do you have any idea how many times I can shoot you, before you bleed to death?”

He got to his feet, rounded the desk, and perched on the end, gun still loaded, and waiting.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jimmy said.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with. Just by doing this, you’re starting a war.”

“War?” Boone asked.

“Yes, an all-out war, and trust me, you’ll be at the top of the fucking list. They fucking hate it when people meddle in their business.”

“Does the name Boone Grinder mean anything to you?” he asked.

Jimmy went paler. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, well, between you and me, you’re looking right at him.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Please, look, just take the girls. All the plans and shit are in the desk. Just keep me out of it.”

“That is an entirely different tune you’re taking,” Boone said.

“I’ve fucking heard of you. You’re a fucking freak. No one knows what shit you are into. People that cross you end up fucking dead. I’ve got a wife and kids, a family that needs me. I’m just the middleman. The guy that gets shit done.”

Boone went to the desk, opened it, and sure enough, there was the paperwork. He saw Valdez’s and Bonaldi’s name.

Flicking through the shipment containers, there were girls and drugs and ... kids. What the ever-loving fuck?

Boone also saw a couple of cops’ names kept coming up, and he wasn’t happy. Cops needed to learn to respect the badge, and that was happening here. They were exploiting it, and women and children’s lives were at stake. Rolling up the paperwork, he rounded the desk.

Jimmy had crawled across the floor and leaned up against the wall.

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