Page 39 of Huntsman
There’s one chair.
And Dakari is tied to it.
Like a bloody, fucked-up Christmas gift.
And I loooves me some Christmas.
“Hey, Dakari.” I clasp my hands behind my back and smile at him. “So glad you could make it.”
“Yeah, he was a little hesitant at first. But after I convinced him that we really, really needed to see him, he came along.” Penn claps a hand on Dakari’s shoulder. “Ain’t that right, Dakari?”
He doesn’t answer, but I don’t miss the small, muted whimper.
“Aw.” I poke out my bottom lip. “Penn, I think our boy here is a little uncomfortable. Are you, D?” He remains quiet, but his hazel eyes swim with horror. Mmm. I could orgasm off all that delicious fear. “I’d hate for you to be experiencing any kind of discomfort. Ooh.” I wince. “You got a little blood”—I circle my finger in front of his battered, bruised face—“well, everywhere.”
“Eshe, please. I—” he croaks.
But I place my finger flat against his busted and swollen lips.
“Shhh. Don’t spoil the moment.” I reach behind me and grab my gun, then tap it against my thigh.
“Eshe, I swear—”
I swing, smashing my Glock into his mouth. The chair—and Dakari—fly backward. His head bounces off the concrete, and I wince. That’s going to be one helluva headache.
Well, y’know, if he would be alive in the next five minutes.
Which, spoiler alert, he will not.
“I said shut the fuck up. Damn!” I glare at him. “Why muthafuckas gotta be so hardheaded?”
Spreading my arms wide, I glance around and am met with a chorus of “I don’t know,” and “muthafuckas just don’t learn,” and “just no home training.” Shaking my head, I wait for Nef to pick Dakari up. Blood oozes from his already-fucked-up mouth and drips onto his chin and ripped, dirty T-shirt.
“Now, before I was interrupted…” I crouch in front of him and, tipping my head back, meet his eyes. Correction, eye. One of ’em is swollen shut. “It hurts me to see you here like this, D. Not more than it hurts you, but gotta say, the betrayal cuts deep.” I splay my fingers wide over my chest. His busted lips part, and I narrow my eyes on him. “If you open your bitch-ass mouth to lie to me, I’m going to hit you in it again. But this time with a bullet.”
He wisely decides to not speak. A shame.
“Good choice.” I praise him, patting his knee. “Now, what information did you pass on to Abena? How much does she know about us?” When he doesn’t immediately start talking, I chuckle and pat him again. “My bad, bruh. You can speak.”
“I—I didn’t tell her anything,” he says, garbled voice thick with unshed tears. “I don’t know that much to tell her other than you recruiting me to be a pair of eyes and ears in the obodo. And I didn’t say anything about that. I swear, I didn’t betray you.”
“Mmm, that’s debatable.” I seesaw my hand back and forth. “Then why you? How did you end up arranging the meeting for Abena? Did she just pick you out all eenie-meenie-miney-moe and shit?”
He starts to shake his head, but his face spasms in pain, stopping the motion. “No. Abena didn’t explain why she approached me other than to say I’m not as careful as I thought.” He coughs, and more blood stains his mouth and chin.
Probably some internal damage there.
“So what did she promise you?” Tera asks, coming closer until the tips of her boots nudge the chair leg.
“Good question,” I cosign. “What did Abena promise that was so good, you sold us out?”
“I didn—”
I raise my gun and point it at his chest. “Lie again with your Benedict Arnold ass. You didn’t know if I was walking into an ambush or would walk out of there alive. So miss me with that ‘I didn’t, blah, blah, blah’ bullshit. Just answer the question.”
He bows his head, and his chest heaves as if he’s choking back a sob. He better hold that shit in. There’s no crying in torture.
“Abena threatened to have my mom and li’l sister killed.” He lifts his head, and his hazel eyes glisten with unshed tears. “They’re all I got, man. I’m responsible for them. I couldn’t let her…” He chokes up again and sucks in a shuddering breath. “You gotta understand that.”
