Page 52 of His to Have
“Please, please!” he screamed as the heat singed his skin. “I don’t know anything. I was set up. That nigga set me up,” he screamed as spit flew from his lips.
“Now we are getting somewhere. Who?”
He scoffed, even in his pain and fear. “If I tell you…” he stopped mid-sentence, then darted his eyes around the room. “He’ll kill me.” The hiss was full of desperation.
Tilting my head, a humorless smirk curled at my lips. “If you don’t tell me, you’ll beg for death long before he… whoever that is can find you. I am a lot of things, but patient ain’t one of them.” I pressed the hot ass steel further into his flesh, lowering the hammer with the intention of breaking his resolve. A scream ripped from his throat. It was guttural... and desperate. His howls turned to hiccuping gasps as I pulled the gun away leaving a small circular mark. Which was already turning an angry shade of red.
“Please, enlighten me. Who,” I asked, as he whimpered, and trembled in the floor. His hand brushed against the new wound.
He didn’t answer immediately, which only made me smirk. “So, you do have a bit of heart,” I said, slightly amused. “Or is that still fear holding your tongue?”
I holstered my gun, ready to rely on methods I knew worked well. My fingers moved methodically to my pocket, pulling out my trusty knife. A hunting knife with a serrated edge, a well-worn handle, from years of use. With a slow flick of my wrist, the blade snapped free.
“You see... I prefer knives... dismemberment.” I nodded my head toward Keem, telling him to guard the door. Just in case this nigga grew some nuts and tried to run.
“The gun was me being merciful. But you are leaving me no choice, Jeremy.” I ran the tip of the blade from the corner of his eye to the middle of his jaw. “I don’t like disloyalty or weak men. And you Jeremy… you’re both.” The serrated edged pressed into his flesh and the crimson stream of blood began to flow down his cheek
“It’s something about the way the flesh splits and peels from the bone that leaves a lasting impression.”
“I don’t wanna die.” He whispered.
My tone dropped to something you can only describe as menacing. “There’s freedom in death. It strips away lies and reveals truths.”
“But I told you I don’t know nothing. I’m just a runner, man.”
“Maybe, you just need a little encouragement.” My blade made two quick shallow slices across his torso. Jeremy hit the floor with a loud thud, curling into himself as he tried desperately to hold his wounds closed. It wasn't enough to end his life. But it was painful. “You crossed a very delicate line. Fucked with something that is precious to me. And I don’t take kind to it.”
That fast the anger consumed me. My closed fist met Jeremy’s jaw with brutal force the minute he tried to get back up. The loud crack echoed in the room as he crumpled to the ground, clutching his face. I was sure I’d broken his jaw.
“Now.” My voice dripped with malice. “Tell me what you fuckin’ know?”
Jeremy squirmed on the carpeted floor in agony, his wild eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape as he tried futilely to scoot away. A mirthless chuckle escaped my lips.
“There’s nowhere to run. No one will hear your screams. No one will come to your rescue. Matter of fact no one will even remember you fuckin’ exist by the time this is over. You’ll be wishing for a quick death. So, let’s make this easy for the both of us. Shall we?”
Blood-stained tears streamed down his face before he finally shook his head and acquiesced. So, I asked, “Why weren’t you at your post?”
His voice quivered as he tried to speak. “I... I was in over my head. I owed money. A lot of money. To someone really powerful. The Haitians.” He looked at me with pleading eyes, begging me to understand.
However, his lack of business acumen didn’t move me. Nor did his lack of loyalty to my girl’s family...hell, my family now. When I said nothing, only offering him a menacing look that promised there would be no mercy, he swallowed hard and continued.
“I thought I could manage it, but things spiraled out of control. Got caught up in some bad deals trying to... trying to make something happen for myself. When shit went left, I needed quick money. Money… that couldn’t be made working for the Reeds.” He swallowed hard, wincing at the pain radiating from his jaw. “Roland, a nigga from Orlando’s crew... found out about my debt with the Haitians. Knew I was in over my head with them and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
I leaned back in the chair, my eyes narrowing at the name. “Roland.” I repeated. “The Moccasin’s family?”
“I guess. I just know him from around the way.”
“What does he have to do with any of this?”
Jeremy hesitated petrified. “He... he offered me a way out. Said he could help clear my debt, give me product to push. At a price no one else could match. And he did for months.”
I said nothing, just tilted my head slightly, silently commanding him to continue.
“Then about a month ago when I met to get my product he said his boss had connected him to a better supplier. Someone pushing real weight, and had that pure. I thought... this is finally my come up.”
“What this got to do with Ayanna’s boutique?”
“Roland promised to front me ten keys. All I’d have to do was make a run for him whenever the time came. I got the text the day M-Miss Reed’s store was attacked.”
