Page 3 of Rise of the King (Checkmate 5)

“What… what… what do you want?”

“I want names.”

“I don’t know names, man! I’m just here to buy a dance and a drink.”

I pull his scrawny body away from the wall, only to slam him back again until his head crunches against the brick and blood trickles over the back of his neck. “This ain’t your ordinary interrogation, kid. I’m a man with too little patience, but loads of time to kill a motherfucker. So before you speak again, listen.” His muddy brown eyes follow mine. His pupils are pinpricks, and his lips quiver. “I’m looking for a military dude. He’s powerful; he’s hidden; he’s protected.”

“I don’t know any–”

He stops on a squeak when I squeeze his throat. “I saidlisten. Do not speak until you have something important to say. The guy I’m looking for is your boss’s boss’s boss. Someone high up. He’s the guy who controls the soldiers. I need to know how to find him.”

“How the fuck you think I know that shit?” His eyes pop wide when he realizes his mistake and my hand starts squeezing his windpipe. Sliding my left hand into my pocket, I pull the blade out and take pleasure in the way his body comes to a dead still.

Flicking the blade open, I bring it up to his throat. “You were saying?”

“Um.” He gulps. “What I meant to say was, I don’t know this guy. You’re asking me to give you a man I’ve never met. I don’t know this man.”

I flash a smile of approval. “That was an intelligent answer, Cole. I appreciate your honesty.”

“Can I go now?”

“No.” Without releasing him, I drop my eyes to my boots for a moment to think. “This dude, this military guy, he’s a few levels higher than you. I’ve got feelers out on this, but so far, he’s hidden. I believe you when you say you didn’t meet him yet, but you transported women across the border last weekend. I saw you.”

His face drains whiter when he reads the truth in my eyes.

“There’s no need to deny. I fucking watched you do it. You moved a van full of teenage girls across the border and sold them to someone who won’t treat them nicely. You took that order from someone. Tell me who.” He’s lucky I didn’t execute him through the scope of my Winchester while I had the chance.

Ace and I are strategic. Everything we do has a greater purpose, so not ending Cole’s miserable life a week ago was only because we had more use for him. But it ends tonight. It ends here. “Your only choice right now is to die for what you did to those girls, or hand me your boss, and he dies. There is no third option.”

“I don’t know!” His voice chokes off when I squeeze his windpipe. Panicked, his hands claw at my wrist, similar to how some of those girls clawed at him a week ago. He was the only thing that stood between them and slavery. He chose wrong.

“Names!”

“I don’t know who you’re looking for. I’m just doing my job, man!”

“You stole fifteen-year-old girls from their folks when their backs were turned. Seven of them! That’s seven families who are now broken. Seven families who’ll never be the same, because you wanted to make a clean thousand bucks and feel like a gangster. Who do you take your orders from?”

“His name’s Peter. That’s all I know.” Cole’s feet slam against the brick exterior of the club as I lift and squeeze his throat tighter. “He’s a white boy that wears a suit every damn day. Like, a full five-piece to inspect his club.”

“Good. Peter. What’s his last name?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know!” He cries when I dig my blade in. “I literally don’t know. It’s not like he throws his personal information around all willy-nilly. His name is Pete; that’s all I got.”

“How do you communicate with him? How does he pass on his orders?”

“Text.” Folding his body, he digs a hand into his back pocket and pulls out his phone. “Check it, man. It’s under Pete; take his number.”

I set Cole on his feet, but keep my hand on his throat as I accept the phone with my left hand. “What’s your passcode?”

“It’s titties. Like eight-four-eight-four-three-seven, but only one T in the middle, because two makes it too long.”

Pausing, I look back into his eyes in disbelief. “Are you fucking serious right now?Stupid ass motherfucker. Twenty-five going on twelve.” I slide my thumb over his screen to make sure the code he’s given is correct – T-I-T-I-E-S – and when I gain access and move to his text screen, I find Pete and his orders to be at the drop point this time last week. “Good.” I slide the whole phone into my pocket and step back.

“Can I go now?” He takes a step forward with faux bravery. “You gotta take his number, then give my phone back. I need that for w–”

“No.” Swinging my blade around, I open his throat and step back when crimson blood sprays over the alleyway concrete, turning powdery white snow to a massacre of red. “Seven families will never recover because of what you did. And that was just last week’s girls. You won’t do it again.”

Dropping to his knees, then the ground, Cole clutches his throat and chokes on his own blood. His body convulses, his hands squeezing in hopes of undoing what I did. But I don’t walk away until he’s out. I don’t walk away until I know he can’t come back, because I know better than most that some assholes can survive just about anything.

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