Page 126 of Chad's Chase
Chad kept his eyes on Sambo, not giving me the courtesy of an acknowledgment.
“B-But Org—” Sambo started to stutter.
“Org has been playing a game,” Chad said, “And I’m playing right back.”
“What?” Sambo looked confused.
“You didn’t know he’s made me his right-hand man? That I now have control of his team, access to some of his power, the ability to find anyone, anywhere in the world?” A humorless laugh left him. “Why do you suppose he did that, Sambo, unless he wanted me to find you, and kill you?”
What the actual fuck?
Sambo looked from Chad to me, me to Chad, as if hoping I’d save him. “But Rafail…Jhay. He’ll kill—”
“My father is subdued and you’re a fucking fool,” Chad said. “A fool to think Rafail would’ve kept his promise and keep Jhay alive. And an even bigger fool to think Org would let you live after you double-crossed him. Org was only giving me the brunt end to make shit difficult for me because I killed the love of his life, Isabel. He’s making me earn the love ofmylife through pain.”
Fucking Org.
Shoulders slumping forward, Sambo sighed, resigned.
“Now how you die, slowly or quickly, depends entirely upon Ayra,” Chad went on as Ayra emerged from the front. “She literally just begged me for this. And with what she had to put up with from my maddening, bisexual girlfriend over there, I feel I owe your death to her.”
Chad lowered his gun. “But I also wouldn’t feel good if I didn’t do this…” Swifter than any of us could register, Chad seized Sambo’s right arm, twisted it back and up, and—crackkk—a pointy, jagged bone jutted out from the back of Sambo’s elbow. Arm broken.
Ow!
The big sonuvabitch shouted his pain, his face contorted into a venous, ugly mask. “MOTHERFUCKER!!”
“That’s for touching what’s mine,” Chad told him.
“Fuck you!” Sambo cried, trying to gain control of his broken arm and failing completely. It was a gruesome sight.
Ayra pressed her gun to the back of Sambo’s head and ordered, “Up, up, big boy.”
Sambo grunted with an expression on his face that read “bitch, I can take you out with one finger”. But Chad warned, “She has a team of half a dozen armed men waiting outside, Sambo. It’s over.”
At that, Sambo stood up and did as Ayra commanded, escorting him off the jet.
Then it was just us. Me and Chad. Quietness and air.
Removing his pilot’s hat, he tossed it on the seat across the aisle, then sat down where Sambo had just been, resting his gun between us on the table, the muzzle pointing to me.
Minutes passed and all we did was stare at each other. For weeks I thought this man was dead, and here he was, live and in the flesh, sitting right in front of me, hot and sexy and murderous as ever.
“You’re alive,” I whispered, breaking the silence.
His returning tone was cold and unfriendly. “Did you fuck him?”
“No.”
In a flash, the gun was off the table and in his hand, pointed straight at my mouth. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Jhay.”
“It’s not a lie.”
His free hand balled up and thumped down on the table, seeming as if he would go mad just at the thought of “no” not being the truth. “Why are you lying to me? Why? I watched you for a whole week with him. You were content withhim. Because you were fucking him.” His hand shook slightly, like he was barely holding it together. “I fucking told you it was me or no one, Jhay.”
“A whole week?” I said, incredulous. “You knew where I was fora whole weekand you never tried to save me?”
“You never tried to escape.”
