Page 34 of Burn this City

Enzo looked quizzically at him, but Sal left him with that. He’d tell Enzo the whole story when they had the peace and quiet for it. “Let’s get the patient ready.”

19

Jack had argued back and forth with himself about whether to attempt striking up a conversation with the blond capo. As the man who’d dragged in a whole pile of claw hammers, saws and drills, Enzo was unlikely to be the friendlier one of the two. But Enzo was playing with his toys so much that Jack couldn’t resist. Later, he blamed his tiredness.

“Robbed a hardware store, I see.” Just a quip because the clanking was getting to him, but not the way Enzo likely thought.

He hadn’t expected the reaction he got. Enzo’s eyes narrowed, he dropped whatever he was toying with, and kicked him so hard against the chest that Jack lost his breath and then his bearing when the chair twisted and overbalanced and Jack hit his head again. Second time in so many days, but this one seemed worse—it came with searing, splitting pain high up on his forehead, and Jack tried to blink his vision clear and held onto consciousness, but just barely. He smelled blood, and felt it run into his hair and ear.

Enzo crouched before him. “Sal thinks you’re smart, but that was pretty fucking dumb.”

“Agreed.” He didn’t have any more than that.

Enzo grabbed the chair and using a foot to ensure the chair legs couldn’t skid away, hoisted the chair and Jack into his original position. The blood now ran down the side of his face and into his shirt collar. Jack focused on blinking and keeping it out of his eyes.

Movement and voices refocused his attention.

“You said he wasn’t hurt?” A long-haired man in his late twenties walked up to him and cast a long glance at Jack’s forehead.

“That doesn’t count.” Sal crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Enzo?”

“I wasn’t in the mood for sass,” Enzo stated.

Rausa looked at what had to be doc, and shrugged with a “See?” expression.

It took all the concentration Jack had to make sense of the interaction, but he had to. Everything depended on him assessing the situation and the players. Nothing had changed. The doc crouched by Jack’s side and checked on his wrists. He then stood and studied Jack’s face with interest, specifically the aching side, and prodded his upper arm.

“I see you’re working out. Any heart conditions?”

“What?” Jack lifted his head. “No.”

“Asthma? COPD? Any other pulmonary issues?”

Mistake. He hesitated, head pounding too much to think fast enough. If he managed to pull off a lie, surely they’d have to go easier on him.

“He’s fine,” Rausa said. “Trying to weasel his way out again.”

The doc turned to Sal, and only then did Jack fully compute what was going on. Shit, he was definitely getting slow and careless. Seemed he’d been medically cleared for something?

Rausa nodded grimly, unfolded his arms, and Jack noticed he’d taken off his shirt again. He stepped up to the Jacuzzi in the corner and opened the tap. The noise of running water went straight to Jack’s bladder, and he gritted his teeth. Not the time or situation to ask for that toilet break. Rausa’s jaw muscles tensed and relaxed, tensed and relaxed, while his fists remained clenched.

The doc took position near the windows, leaning against them, while Enzo completed the uneven triangle with the long-haired guy and the Jacuzzi at the apex. The hairs of Jack’s neck rose under all that attention from three men who were going to hurt him. Well, hurt him more.

The water kept gushing into the Jacuzzi, while several minutes passed. Then Sal set himself into motion. “Remember, you can stop this at any time.”

“Same goes for you,” Jack said.

“Oh, I know.” Rausa vanished from his view and stood behind him. “Break’s over. Now we’ll work.”

Suddenly a pressure against the plastic ties around his wrists, and his hands were free. Jack swallowed and noticed that Rausa was also freeing his legs. “Get up. Slowly.”

He couldn’t have moved fast if he’d tried. His muscles were tight, his body exhausted and tense from the restriction, balance hard to maintain from hitting his head yet again, but above all, one against three was never going to work in his favor. He briefly rubbed his wrists and rolled his shoulders, but Rausa already took his arms again and put fresh ties around his wrists.

“Let’s go.”

Jack realized with growing horror that Rausa was pushing him toward the Jacuzzi, and pushing him hard so Jack struggled to climb in because his balance was so off. “Kneel.”

“You sick fuck.”

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