Page 67 of Oathbreaker

He shrieks behind the cloth, turning into dead weight in my arms, so when Leo meets me in the alleyway, I’m grateful for his help. We push him against the side of the abandoned home, and paint chips scatter in the air like snow. I keep him in place with my forearm against his neck.

Pinning him to the wall, Leo pulls his gun from his waistband and points it at the man’s head. The silencer is already attached to the barrel.

Staring at Leo’s gun, the man stops fighting.

“Buck Fitzgerald, it’s good to meet you,” I say, showing him all my teeth as I bare them in a smile. “Believe it or not, Buck, I don’t plan on hurting you.” My tone is conversational, and I can tell it takes him off guard.

Still keeping my hand over his mouth, I tell him, “I’m going to remove my hand because I need some answers from you. But if you scream, I promise you’ll really regret that decision. Okay?”

To emphasize my point, Leo racks the chamber. Buck nods quickly.

I test removing my hand and look at him with a raised eyebrow before smiling at him again.

“See? We can play nice,” I say.

Buck’s eyes are wild.

“What do you want, man? I ain’t got no money,” he stutters out, his voice trembling with adrenaline and fear.

“I know you don’t have any money, Buck. You blew all you had in AC last weekend, yeah?” I shake my head. “You need to learn how to manage your bets, bro.”

“What the fuck do you want?” Buck asks, getting testy.

Leo shifts and Buck shrinks away from Leo’s gun.

“I want to know who gave you the hundred grand you pissed away last weekend,” I say much in the same way one might say, “What are you having for dinner?”

Buck sucks his teeth. “Man,” he drawls, but it chokes off when I reapply pressure, my forearm compressing his trachea.

“Buck, I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt that you’re not a complete idiot. You didn’t make it to your level as a parole officer by being stupid,” I say as he struggles against the force of my body against his neck.

“But Buck, I need you to give me some answers.” I look down at him.

Redness spiders from his bulging eyes.

“Are you going to answer the question so I can go on about my night?”

He gapes for several seconds before he tries to nod in acceptance.

“Wonderful choice, Buck,” I reply, lifting off his neck. He coughs, gasping for air.

“Okay, so back to my question. Who gave you the money?” I smile as the seconds tick on. Buck grumbles.

“It was a man. I didn’t get his name, and I didn’t see what he looked like. He wore a hat and a mask, and he showed up in the parking garage one night almost two months ago.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Leo asks, finally chiming in. He cracks his neck from side to side.

“Nope, not a word. He put a manilla envelope on the roof of my assigned car, patted it, and walked away.” Buck starts to strain against my hold again. “I swear, man, that’s all that happened!”

“And you didn’t call after him or try to hold a conversation?” I ask.

“Nope. Plus, the lights were half broken in the garage, so it was dim as fuck. You know how it is. The government runs slow to fix anything.”

I hum in reply.

“What was in the envelope?” Leo asks.

“There was fifty thousand in cash and a note. The note didn’t say much except to call out of work for the next two weeks and say I was sick. It said when I did that, I’d get the other fifty grand delivered to me in cash.”

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