Step Bride: A Bad Boy Mob Roman(68)
“What’s up?” I said to him.
“Joey’s down there,” he responded.
“Our guest?”
“Ready to sing like a fucking bird.” Carlos grinned wickedly.
I looked at Vince, who rolled his eyes. We headed down into the basement, down the familiar steps, and saw Franklin chained to a chair. Joey was standing off to the side, trimming his nails.
“Boss,” Joey said. Franklin looked up.
“Don’t stand,” I said to Franklin. “You look like shit.”
He spit blood onto the ground. Joey and Carlos had worked him over all right; really, they’d beaten the ever-living fucking shit out of him. I was surprise Franklin was even still conscious.
I pulled a chair over and sat across from him. “Ready to talk?” I asked him.
“Why bother?” he said slowly. “You’ll just kill me afterward.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But we’ll kill you much more slowly if you don’t help us out.”
“I have nothing to say.”
I glanced at Joey and he just shrugged. I reached into my jacket and pulled out the notebook. “Do you recognize this?”
I could tell from his initial reaction that he did. “Never seen it before,” he said.
“Liar.” I pulled out my knife. “Lie again, and I cut you.”
“It’s not mine.”
I sighed and ran the blade along his thigh. He screamed.
“You’re not doing yourself any favors, Franklin.”
“Okay, fuck, okay,” he said. “Okay, it’s mine.”
“There we go. Good.” I flipped to a page. “What does this say?”
“It’s a list of names. Guys with the Russians.”
“Why are they listed here, Franklin?”
“I was watching them.”
“That seems strange, considering you’re just a driver.”
“I wasn’t watching them for you guys, you fucking cunt.”
I frowned and cut his thigh again. He cried out in pain.
“That was just for being annoying,” I said.
“Fuck you, Lucas.”
“I know it was you. I know you stole the oil. I know you’re working with some Russians. What I don’t know is where it’s all hidden.”
“Why would I tell you?”
“Because maybe you can save your worthless life.”
That gave him pause. “You want me to roll on my crew, and you let me live?”
“Franklin, listen. I already have your crew.” I waved the notebook in front of him. “I just need the location of the oil. Then I’ll let you live.”
That was when I saw it. It was barely there, barely visible in his bloodied, swollen eyes.
But it was there.
It was hope.
“Come on, Franklin,” I said. “Save everyone some fucking trouble and tell me where the shit is.”
“Give me your word.”
I stood up, sliding my chair away. “You have it.”
“I’ll talk,” he said.
I smiled at him. “Good choice. Tell Joey what you know. I have some calls to make.”
I turned and headed back up the steps, followed by Vince.
“Easy enough,” Vince said. “But now how are you going to play it?”
“Call Arturo. Set a meeting for tonight.”
Vince raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Do it.”
He walked off and I sat down with Carlos, pouring myself a hefty glass of wine. He grinned at me and I smiled back.
The night was almost fucking over.
We pulled up into the empty construction site in our cars. We were early, which was how I liked it. I nodded to Joey and Carlos, who both moved out with high-powered rifles to cover us from a distance and to make sure there wasn’t an ambush.
I shoved Franklin down to his knees. He was duct taped and tied up, so he wasn’t saying much. Vince looked around.
“Ominous,” he said. “I hate these places.”
“They’re fine during the day.”
“Noisy during the day.”
I laughed and we waited. Ten more minutes we waited, until finally we saw lights come up the road.
“Ready?” I said to Franklin, kicking him.
He grunted in response.
“You sure about this?” Vince said to me.
“Not at all.”
The cars pulled up and guys poured out of them. They were all in battle gear, holding rifles and wearing Kevlar vests. Finally, my father emerged from the center car and walked toward us.
We were outnumbered ten to one at least.
“This is a surprise,” Arturo called out.
“I brought you something,” I said, kicking Franklin again.
“Is that the traitor fuck?”
“It’s him.”
Arturo frowned. “What the fuck do I want with that?”