Page 64 of Chaos Luck Wrath

“You should see your face right now.” Layne smiled as she gave a softer laugh this time.

“Hah, yeah…” The bead of sweat on his forehead began its slow descent towards his brow.

Shifting back a few inches on his lap, Layne pulled the trigger. The bullet easily tore past the thick denim of Jonathan’s jeans and straight into his cock.

Her other two associates simultaneously flinched and cringed, you could notice their legs flexing as they had fear struck into their own dicks.

Jonathan immediately jolted and howled out in agony. Layne’s grip on his neck rotated to squeeze his throat, minimizing the sound of his yells.

“You are a fucking liar, Jon!” She yelled at him to be heard over his pain as the blood began soaking his pants, spreading outward over the crotch area. “You’ve been working for Liam this entire goddamn time! How are you going to make that right?!”

She moved the Glock so it was now pressed against Jonathan’s shoulder as he jerked and writhed, tears streaming down his face. “No, no, no, no!” His denial was on repeat, or perhaps he was in disbelief she had just put a bullet through his penis.

Glancing up to see the shock on the other two’s faces, she began laying out everything she knew.

“No? No, you weren’t helping Liam? You’re telling me that you didn’t tell him when I was at the hospital with Joey? You didn’t feed him information about my every move? You sure that you didn’t give him the heads up where I was having dinner down in Times Square?” Each recounting of all the puzzle pieces clicking into place made her anger tick up another notch.

Her face came up to his so close their noses were touching and she didn’t care how much spit came out with her words. “What about all my discussions with other factions that you were handling? Huh?! Did you fuck those up for me, too?! Is that why no one seemed willing to help me!?”

Jonathan cried out again, reeling from injury filling his body with unimaginable pain. “Gah!! Pleeeeease!”

Layne pulled her face back to give a little more space. “I hate to tell you, Jonathan, but Nicholas isn’t as tight-lipped as you thought. A friend of mine had him spilling everything he knew. Imagine my goddamn surprise when he told me one of my own fucking men was betraying me!” Layne was beyond pissed and every word she spat out was laced with her dangerous venom.

When Daniil had called her to alert her he had tracked down Orellano, he informed her of everything that spilled out of the man’s mouth. It had taken some extremely aggressive forms of persuasion, which the Russian had been all too happy to resort to. Nicholas had dropped Jonathan’s name like a two-ton weight. He mentioned another man, but when questioned further, it was determined he knew nothing about Liam’s other partner.

“What is Liam’s plan, Jonathan? Hm? You better tell me something or else I will make the pain you’re feeling now seem like a mild headache.” She dug the muzzle of the pistol harder into the front of his shoulder.

When it was clear he was too distracted to answer her question, she crashed the side of the gun across his face. “What’s his plan?!” Her voice echoed against the walls of the small space of the storage unit.

She saw the defeat and surrender begin to peek through Jonathan’s tough front as he sobbed. He choked on his words, “He…H-he wants you to,” he gasped for some air between his fits of pain. “Meet at Eric’s old place. It’s on the note.” He took several large breaths trying to get through the intensity of the wound between his legs.

Layne thought back to the note left for her after the accident. 430 at 830 on 227 for 611. The first number was the house number of Eric’s old residence. The second must have been the time, followed by the date. However, her mind was drawing a blank on what the fourth number represented.

“What’s 611?” she asked after being unable to figure it out on her own.

Jonathan shook his head. “I don’t know.” When she went to lift her pistol again, he screamed out, “I don’t know! I swear! I just gave him info, I didn’t ask questions!”

Well, that was fucking useless.

“Layne, I’m sorry.” Oh boy, here came the apologies that she hated so much.

She got off his lap, pacing a few feet in front of him. “Who is helping him?”

“I told you, I don’t know!” He brayed like a wounded jackass.

Bang!

Another bullet ripped through Jonathan, this time it was the top of his foot. Layne looked up to see Ethan holding his gun out. “You piece of shit! If you don’t start giving her answers, I will personally shove this gun up your ass and pull the trigger.”

Color Layne impressed that Ethan was harboring the same amount of anger and resentment that she was. He was going to need a damn promotion.

Jonathan was now hysterically screaming, the words coming out of his mouth were a combination of nonsense and curses.

Layne’s fingers rubbed across her forehead trying to gather her thoughts past the incessant whines and whimpers as Jonathan’s body became crippled from the attacks.

She tapped the side of her pistol against her thigh to help her think. Deciding that Jonathan was no longer of any use to her she lifted the gun to aim it at his chest.

His eyes went wide seeing that another shot was about to be fired. “Some old fuck! Real twisted!”

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