Page 86 of Brick

Abruptly, the TV turned off next door as the slam of his front door echoed in the small living room.

When had he heard Sucre say those words before?

Oh fuck.

He had to get back to Liv’s place before Sucre made his move.

***

Liv

Liv trembled as she disconnected the call. She had no doubt one of Jonathan’s associates had just tried to figure out who she was.

Could he trace her through her phone? Should she get out of the apartment?

She forced her labored breathing to slow. Panic wouldn’t help anything.

It hadn’t been Tre. She would have known his voice anywhere. And even if Sucre himself had been on the other end of the line, and he was trying to figure out who she was, she hadn’t taken the bait. He couldn’t identify her, and more importantly, he couldn’t find her.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to keep a knife from the kitchen next to her on the sofa.

She texted Will to be on the safe side. He agreed with her conclusions, but he promised to come over anyway. In the meantime, she needed a distraction. The pictures from Amicalola Falls always made her smile. She mirrored her phone onto the TV and scrolled through them. The warm memories soothed a little of the chill seeping into her bones.

Until a text flashed across the screen. A video?

She tapped the vidbox and brought it full-screen, then pressed play. The video quality was terrible. Someone obviously had shot it on a dark street, the low light making everything grainy. Still, Jonathan was unmistakable as he charged a smaller man in a torn white T-shirt, standing in front of a non-descript building.

The guy dropped to his knees, but Jonathan didn’t slow. He held something black in his hand. A crowbar, maybe.

Her stomach turned as he cracked it over the man’s head.

Jonathan towered over him, then kicked him hard in the midsection. “Get up.” She could barely hear him, but she understood his growl.

The man stayed motionless. Even as Jonathan picked him up by the throat. Even as his face grew mangled by one hit after another…after another. His white T-shirt darkened with blood.

Jonathan slammed the back of the guy’s head into the bricks behind him.

Then the screen cut to another scene. It was Jonathan again, only this time, he was inside someone’s home. The camera watched from outside a window.

This time, the image looked clearer because there were lights on, which only made it worse. There was no sound, but the black guy in the hoodie was shaking his head. His eyes were pleading.

Jonathan backhanded him. Then hit him again and again and again before twisting the man’s arm in an unnatural direction and leaving him in a heap on the floor.

The video cut to another scene, then another. They were all different, but still the same. More violence, more blood. More begging and crying. And more of Jonathan’s relentless fists.

Everything inside her screamed to turn it off, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

She lifted her thumb to swipe the horrors away when Jonathan’s face filled her screen. Here, he looked different. Younger. His hair was a little longer; it had a bit of wave to it. Here, he wasn’t some punishing machine. He looked relaxed. His eyes were closed, his jaw slack. He lay on a red silk pillow.

The camera panned down to reveal a woman riding him. A dirty blonde with fake boobs way too round and big to be real. They bounced unnaturally with each rise and fall of her body. Jonathan was silent, but the wet sounds coming from the blonde’s movements were deafening.

Her breathing grew shallow as another woman crawled into the frame. The newcomer showed no sign of expression; her bare skin was light brown and her body, long and lean. She straddled Jonathan’s face, then rolled her hips. The blonde leaned toward her, and the women lapped at each other’s tongues.

Was this better or worse than watching Jonathan beat a man to death?

A bald Hispanic man wearing only gold chains and diamond rings joined the three of them on the bed. A man who had to be the boss Jonathan so loathed and feared. Then, she knew the answer to her question.

This was worse. So much worse than she’d ever imagined.