I took him by the bicep—jeez, I could almost wrap my hand around his entire arm—and pulled him slightly in front of me, guiding him back into the gigantic foyer of the McMansion, saying, “Shut it, Ronn. Your options for the night are limited. If you’re a good boy, you’ll tell me what I need to know and you might get out in one piece. Maybe.”
I wasn’t too sure of my ability to hold myself back. This piece of shit deserved a roughing up so badly, and I was still itching to give it to him.
He showed wisdom and kept his mouth shut until we got back to the library and shut the door.
When I released his arm, he turned to me, seething and demanding, “Just who the fuck do you think you are?”
“I know who I am, and I know who you are, too. You have a big problem, and it’s time we address it. It’s about a little snuff film, and knives, and a dead girl, and a dead brother of mine. Does that jog your memory?”
His eyes narrowed to slits, and he smirked. “Ah, it just might. So you want—what? What exactly do you think I can provide you with?”
I wanted a lot of things. I wanted this motherfucker to pay for Manny. I wanted Fielding to pay for Tania. I wanted evidence to incriminate both of them, evidence that could go to the cops and put these two away forever. I wanted to get out of Hardcore for good. I wanted our MC back. I wanted to find Pres’s daughter, Zoe, in one piece and alive. I wanted this whole fucking nightmare to be over.
But I had to start small here. “I want to take Fielding down. What’s his hold over you? Or are those types of pornos your sick preference, too?”
Understanding and superior knowledge lit his eyes. “Ah. No. His tastes… shall we say, he represents a distinctive niche of the market, one that is… ah, so specialized that men such as he are willing to pay top dollar for. Supply and demand, you know. It’s the way the world works.”
He looked proud of himself, like he hadn’t just made the most sick and abhorrent and criminal predilection sound merely offbeat and unique for the wealthy and discerning connoisseur, and he smirked again. I just about growled. There was nothing right about these people. They should have been wiped off the face of the planet long ago.
“So it’s all about making money for you, then? Anything for a buck?”
“Ah, well…” he drawled. “Perhaps there’s a little more. He’s invested rather heavily in my industries. He’s the silent controlling partner behind Hardcore, and one might consider him as silent executive producer, if you will, for the cinematic ventures. On occasion, he opts to have a more, shall we say, personal involvement in the—ahem—artistic offerings. My tastes run a bit more mainstream, but I know enough not to judge him. You might be wise to take that lesson, and just keep your fucking nose out of business where you don’t belong.”
“I see.” But I got him here. “So you just provide the… actors for his ‘special productions,’ then? Did you choose Tania, or did he?”
“Tania. No, Tania was right up his alley. The perfect girl. Money hungry, willing to do anything for it, sign her life away—figuratively speaking, of course. She also was fairly deeply in debt. I was helping her out, giving her another way to make some significant extra money on the side. I merely provided an introduction, and they took it from there.”
“You both are sick individuals, you know that, right? You lead a girl to her death, and you kill Manny for—”
His face shut down, and his voice went cold. “I don’t know what or whom you are talking about, Mr. Parker. But I do think you are way out of line. Best to forget any unpleasantries that occupy your limited mental space and move along, young Parker. It is always the healthiest option.”
“Just so you see how I got this straight, Joey.” Oh, he didn’t like my use of the familiar. I thought I might keep using it. “You put Tania with Fielding to do the movie. Fielding calls the shots. Tania just happens to die, through… unplanned loss of blood. Fielding exits the scene; you call Manny in for cleanup. Yeah, I know all about that. Only, Manny sees what went down and freaks out—which, I want to point out here, is a normal reaction to seein’ somethin’ like that. You shoot him in the head so he won’t cause a problem, and make Clav do cleanup on both of ’em, which implicates him. So then you hold the whole matter over Clav’s head as blackmail, and my whole MC is payin’ the price now. Do I got it right?”
“When you put it that way, yeah, you do, Dom. I’m a fucking genius!” And he had himself a good deep belly chuckle. He bought his own shit. What a fuckwad.