Page 9 of Runaway Queen

“I know he goes to the golf club every Monday morning.” The man panted.

I nodded, impressed. “Now, that is real info. Well done. What’s your name?”

“T-Tommaso.”

His stutter was irritating me. I turned back to Mr. Accountant.

“Now, Tommaso has just proved that he will rat to stay alive. That means that you might be surplus, unless you give me something right now.”

I stared at the bookkeeper. His lips stayed closed in a firm line. It was fucking annoying.

I tapped my lip with the warm end of my gun, contemplating. “I know. I have a great idea.”

I jumped to my feet, and both men flinched.

“Let’s play a game, shall we? I love games, and believe me, you don’t want to be the loser of this one.”

Luckily, I had just the right gun for it. I shook out all the bullets but one and grinned at the waiting men. “You guys must be big gamblers, considering how much time you spend in Atlantic City. Let’s play… you give me something interesting, or we see how lucky you are… I always loved roulette.”

Snapping the gun closed, I spun the chamber. “Now, since Tom gave me something, we’ll start with you, Moneybags. You want to tell me something, or do you want to take your chances?”

The accountant stared at me silently.

I whistled. “You’ve got bigger balls on you than I expected. I can respect that, but it doesn’t change the rules of the game.”

I pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger carelessly.

It clicked emptily. The accountant had gone deathly pale.

“Well done. Back to Tommaso. Anything for me, man?”

Tommaso licked his lips. “He has a mistress who lives in Trenton. He goes there three times a week.”

“It’s a good effort, but I’m not interested in the women in his life. It was a valid try, though. Now, back to you. Got something for me?” I swung the gun back to the accountant.

There was no defiance in his eyes this time. He just looked shit scared. The ravenous beast inside me devoured the man’s fear, only growing stronger and stronger. I thrived off the scent of piss and blood in the air. It was honest. Fear was the most honest thing there was.

He swallowed, his throat bobbing, then shook his head.

I pulled the trigger again. Another click.

“Tom? Your turn.”

Tommaso blanched. He looked about to cry. He was clearly out of titbits to share. That made sense. I hadn’t taken him or his dead companion for their insider info. The tail of the snake never knows what the head is up to.

“No? Tick-tock goes the clock.”

“I-I don’t know,” he mumbled.

“Too bad.” I pointed the gun at him. The sound of the shot followed my words.

“Oops. Looks like his luck ran out.”

Tommaso’s chair toppled back and hit the floor; the man in it was already dead.

I put another bullet in the gun and approached Mr. Accountant. He was completely still now.

“It’s just you and me now, Bob. Do you mind if I call you that? You look like a Bob.”

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