Page 19 of Damascus & The Wildfire
Hatchet’s phone rang, and he grinned as he silenced it.
I reached for the blade, its polished surface glinting under the dim light. I traced the flat edge along Danny’s cheek before gripping his wrist and positioning the knife above his hands.
“Going to be hard to work at a factory without any fingers.” I slowly pressed the sharp edge onto his skin. He shrieked as flesh and bone gave way.
“We’re going to repeat this nine more times before I move on to your ears.”
“Feds!” Danny choked. “They cornered me after my arrest. Let me out in exchange for information.”
I left the pinky finger hanging from his hand by a shred of skin and stepped back, wiping his blood off the blade on my jeans. “What’d you give ’em?”
“Runs I rode on. Hangouts. Some supplier names. The warehouse location.”
“Which warehouse?”
“The one off 3083.”
Reaper let out a slow, controlled breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. That one was full of fenced vehicles picked up in the Woodlands—hot bikes and cars that could be broken down and sold quickly. But the real prize, the warehouse on County Line Road, still stocked stolen military-grade weapons.
Thankfully, the prospects weren’t privy to that location.
“That’s all?” I asked, my tone sharp.
“That’s all, I swear,” Danny whimpered. “They wanted more, but I didn’t have anything else to give. They asked if I could get back in the club, but once I explained why I was kicked out, they cut me loose.”
A sudden ring cut through the thick silence. My phone, perched among the tools of my trade, lit up with Kenna’s name.
Hatchet’s eyes shifted to mine. “She just called me, too. Maybe something’s wrong.”
I glanced at my blood-spattered hands. “Answer it,” I gruffed. I didn’t like that she’d called Hatchet before me.
“Hello?” Hatchet said, pressing the phone to his ear.
I couldn’t make out all the words, but the hysteria in Kenna’s voice was unmistakable. Hatchet’s brow furrowed as he toggled the phone to speaker.
“… can’t get a hold of Eva because she’s in a meeting, and I can’t get home because my keys were in my purse. I need someone to get the spare set from my house so I can drive.”
“Slow down. What happened? Where are you?” Hatchet asked.
“I’m in downtown Houston at the police station. Wait, Hatchet? Is that you? I thought I called Merrick.”
“Merrick couldn’t answer, so I picked up his phone. He’s standing right here. You’re on speakerphone.”
“What happened?” I growled, my tone rough.
Kenna’s voice trembled. “I was mugged. The guy ran off with my purse. I’m sorry. If you guys are busy, I can wait for Eva to get out of her meeting later this afternoon.”
“No,” Hatchet said. “I’m on my way right now to pick you up. I’ll be there in thirty.”
“OK,” she said, her voice breaking as Hatchet ended the call and set the phone back on the table.
He gave my blood-spattered clothes a once-over. “I think it’s better if you finish this. I’ll go pick her up.”
I nodded. “I’ll meet you at the clubhouse later.” I drew my silenced Sig Sauer, ignoring Danny’s pleas. “Are the feds getting information from anyone else?”
“I think they have someone in the club,” he stuttered, “but I swear, I don’t know who. No one talks to me since I got kicked out.”
I tilted my head, hearing the truth in his tone. “Then we’re done here.”
