Page 9 of Shattered Empire (Shattered World)

The girl behind him screamed, jumping back as Drew howled in pain, clawing at his exploded kneecap.

The two men behind me shared a quick glance, their eyebrows raised in surprise.

That’s right, men. There’s a new Ava Dashkov in town. And she’s the fastest draw in the west.

I really needed to get out of my head more.

Once his screams had died down, I stepped forward, gun aimed at his other kneecap.

“My name is Avaleigh Dashkov,” I informed him calmly. His eyes widened at my last name, no doubt understanding the power behind it. The violence. “I’m the new boss in town, and when I ask you a question, I expect you to answer. So, let’s try again, shall we? Tell me about the money you’ve been shipping from the Middle East for Christian.”

Without hesitating, he curled his lips up in disgust, shot me a hostile scowl, and hissed, “Fuck you.”

He screamed.

The girl screamed.

There went the other kneecap.

“I could do this all day, Drew,” I told him, shrugging a shoulder. “You either tell me what you want me to know, or the next bullet hits those family jewels.”

Crickets.

“Okay then…” I aimed my gun, finger resting on the trigger when he cried out for me to stop.

“Wait. Wait.” He covered his limp noodle dick with his hands. Not that he needed two hands to cover the little gherkin. “Look,” he swallowed hard against the fear and pain, tears streaming down his face. “We spoof the ship port numbers, all right? But I don’t have anything to do with that. My company just provides the muscle and the containers. That’s it.”

“You expect me to believe that?” I chuckled mirthlessly.

“It’s true, I swear,” he pleaded, a desperate, feral look in his eyes.

“How did you get into business with Christian?” That was a fairly simple question. Should have started with that one, he might still have both kneecaps if that were the case.

Not as fun, though.

“His father did dealings with my father,” he panted, sweat dripping down his forehead. His eyes were beginning to flutter slightly as the blood loss set in. “I started working with Elias a few years ago when I first started up. He had a man that funded my entire operation.”

Now that piqued my interest.

“What man?”

“I don’t know,” he grimaced. “Some older guy with a cane. Odd accent. Not quite foreign but not quite American either.”

“Name.” I demanded harshly.

“I don’t know!” he wailed.

“Okay.” I shrugged as I processed what other information he might have. Nothing came to mind. I pulled the trigger without a second thought, Drew’s head exploding over the weeping Brittany, who was kneeling behind him. “Then I guess you’re of no further use to me.”

I lowered my weapon, letting it settle at my side. Brittany wept, her bottled blond hair a rat’s nest, her makeup sliding down her face like a clown who’d been out in the heat. I expected to feel a pinch of remorse at having just killed a man, but it wasn’t there. Rather, there was this widespread apathy that settled beneath my skin and calmed the churning fire.

“You fucking whore!” The weeping hag finally spoke, breaking out of the fear she’d imprisoned herself in.

“I’d be careful who you call a whore,” I taunted. “Who sleeps with their best friend’s fiancé?”

Brittany scoffed. “Please.” Her lips turned up in an ugly sneer, her face twisting darkly. “She never had him. We’d had this planned for years with that bitch, Sarah. Sell her and split the profit. Of course that stupid slut had to go and—”

Well, that was enough of that. The words of the viper had begun to bore me, and now she was dead silent. Literally. Her blood and brain matter joined that of the snake of a man she’d had between her dirty thighs.

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