Page 75 of Without Fail

“Where’s the guard?” Donald growled.

“He’s using the toilet,” Mark said. “He said to bring in the burgers, fries, and shakes.”

The delivery guy pushed past Donald, forcing him to take a step back.

Marshal’s mouth watered, he was fucking starving.

“I’ll take that.”

Real’s voice filled the room and his friend stepped through the door behind the delivery guy.

With the business end of a Ruger SR22 handgun nudged against Donald’s forehead, Real reached over and took the weapon from the man’s holster.

“Put the food down there,” Real told Mark, and bags of food and drinks were placed on a plastic table that sat against one wall.

Real never took his eyes from Donald, whose mouth had gaped open and remained that way.

“Where’s the keys?”

“It’s a keypad,” Marshal murmured.

“Open it.”

“No.” Donald’s voice shook, his mouth clamped closed, and his fists clenched at his sides.

Real gripped the slighter man by the throat and backed him against the wall. Not that Donald was small, but in comparison to Real, he looked like a twig.

Real was that fucking big.

The end of the weapon pressed against Donald’s closed lips for a moment before it was forced between the man’s teeth.

Blood from Donald’s smashed lips smeared the barrel of Real’s weapon.

“I don’t know you,” Real said really soft like. “And I don’t have anything to lose. I can end you and disappear and live my life with total enjoyment.”

Donald’s eyes were the size of saucers. His mouth was a rounded O around the barrel. Donald’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“I answer to a man who holds all the power. And that guy right there?” Real jerked his head to Marshal. “Is his kin.”

Shit.

Real wasn’t going to tell Donald that his cousin was the current Secretary of Defense, was he?

“Real…” Marshal hissed.

“So, we can do this the easy way or I can blow your head off.”

“Fwo, fixsh…” Donald began around the barrel and Real removed the weapon.

“Punch it in.” Real’s voice hadn’t ever changed. The man’s tone stayed steady, quiet, and lethal.

Donald punched in the code to his cell with shaking fingers.

Stepping over to Donald, Marshal punched the man in the liver and when Donald doubled over, Marshal clocked the fucker beneath his chin. Donald dropped like a stone and Marshal crouched down in front of the guy.

“That’s just a warm up,” he told Donald before standing upright.

He roamed over to the burgers and fries and grabbed a few to stuff his face with.

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