Page 37 of Burdens
“What the hell do you want?” he spat out.
“God, thank you so much for asking,” I deadpanned. “It’s just you keep stealing from me and I thought I’d stop by to say hello and introduce myself so you remember not to do it again because I quite hate it.”
“I never fucking stole from you,” he grunted, tears free-falling down his cheek and onto the side of my dagger.
“Here’s another thing I hate: liars,” I confessed, making a shallow cut on his cheek to test the tensility of his skin.
“Ya rabi?3, I’m not fucking lying, you crazy bitch,” he screeched. “I don’t even fucking know you.”
My chest twisted violently with annoyance. “See, actually,” I drawled, pressing my sharp dagger a little more into his skin. “We have a friend in common that tells me you’re the one who’s been stealing weapons from my shipments.”
His eyes swam with confusion, so I added, “The name Mehdi ring a bell?”
His pupils dilated and his nostrils flared at the name, a sense of understanding washing over him. He cursed in Arabic under his breath.
“Ah, so you do know who I work for,” I stated.
“Listen, youbitch,” he scoffed in disgust, attempting to glare at me through his pain. “If Alaoui finds out you’re on our territory, he’ll?—”
I cut him off. “He’ll what? Kill me? Gosh, I’m so scared, especially when you have no clue who I am or how to find me. And you know if you step one foot on Barrera’s territory, he’ll unleash a war against your pathetic little cartel before you can ask God for mercy.”
He pressed his lips together.
That’s what I thought.
“So next time your foolish mind decides to hijack my shipments and steal cargo that isn’t fucking yours, think of the gift I’m about to give you so that you remember not to lie when asked a simple fucking question.”
I technically wasn’t allowed to kill freely unless ordered to since there was a system in place, some old rule to keep some sort of peace. Although I wasn’t a stickler for rules, I knew I couldn’t kill him since terminating another cartel’s underboss would only create drama.
So I did the next best thing I could do that would most likely only leave me with a harsh warning not to do it again.
With that, I pulled my other hand up and gripped his jaw to steady him. He trashed under me and jerked forward, but before he reached me, I slid my dagger from one of his cheeks to the other, cutting through the skin and muscle and carving until the line of his lips extended closer to his temporal bone.
A blood-curdling scream erupted around us as blood spurted from the gash and warm liquid poured over my skin. His pleas mixed with every curse word indarijayou could think of faltered into quiet cries, his hands flying back and forth between his face and his heel, unsure which wound to tend to.
I sighed, my shoulders relaxing, and stood. The sight was quite enjoyable, but I didn’t have time to stay over and enjoy it longer like I wished I could. So I walked back into his room and paused for a moment.
I let out a deep sigh and moved over to the pile of clothes he’d discarded earlier. I picked up his suit jacket but didn’t find what I was looking for. I then made my way downstairs to the other possible place he might have left it.
I passed the still unconscious man and walked over to the entryway table. Once I found what I was looking for tossed next to his car keys, I jogged back upstairs to where he was still lying in a pool of his own blood, his towel now wide open and exposing him.
My stomach recoiled at the sight as I stood at the entry of the closet. “Consider this a favor,” I said before tossing his phone into the growing crimson pile he was wasting and walking away.
I knew I didn’t have much time before his reinforcement would show up, so I quickly stopped by the bathroom to wash my hands and blade, not wanting to spend the journey home with his filth on my body.
I tied my hair again into a ponytail and changed into a clean pair of black cargo pants and a white tank top that had been in the small duffel I’d stashed under Zakaria’s bed earlier while I’d waited for him to come home.
Once done, I shouldered my bag and rushed downstairs to leave. Sheer curiosity halted my steps when I reached the limp body. I crouched down, my elbows resting on my knees,inspecting his features more closely to see if it would spark any recognition.
Nothing.
I knew he didn’t work for the Alaouis because I knew everyone in their ranks, both official and unofficial. So what was he doing here and what had he done to get this treatment from Zakaria?
The fact that he wasn’t dead could only mean one thing. He was still valuable.
I hadn’t planned on taking his prisoner, but he might have information that could be helpful. As if I’d conjured him from the depth of his consciousness, he stirred, a pained breath leaving his lips. His eyes fluttered a few times but didn’t open.
They must have drugged him with something potent for him to still be under its effects. I could drag him out, but that would only attract many unwanted peering eyes that I didn’t have time to deal with.
