Page 64 of Brick

Lorenzo reached into his waistband and pulled out a revolver his ratty t-shirt had hidden. His mouth opened, likely for some kind of pithy response, but Brick moved fast, knocking the gun out of his hand, onto the floor. He slammed his fist into Lorenzo’s stomach, and the guy doubled over before dropping to the floor.

They always pretended to pass out.

Dumb fuck. A gut punch wouldn’t knock anyone out.

“Get up.”

Lorenzo didn’t move.

“Get. Up.” He spoke through clenched teeth. He would be well within his rights to kill the guy after he pulled a gun, but he didn’t want to send Tre the wrong message.

When Lorenzo refused to budge, he lifted him off the floor by his neck. Lorenzo’s eyes flew open, and they immediately bulged in their sockets.

“Oh. So, you’re awake now?” Keeping his grip on Lorenzo’s neck, he used his other hand to snap the man’s wrist. “This is what happens when you don’t pay.”

A smarter man would’ve been grateful to escape with his life. Lorenzo wasn’t smart. Digging a switchblade from his pocket, he swung the weapon at Brick’s torso.

He let go of Lorenzo’s neck and used both hands to hyperextend his elbow. The man made an inhuman noise when the loud pop signaled it had left its socket. “This is what happens when you try to fight back.” Lorenzo slid to the floor, cradling his arm against his chest. “You have two more days to pay what you owe. You know what happens on the third.”

Much as he tried, he couldn’t ignore the tent in Tre’s pants when he turned toward the door. God, he hated this life.

“That was the fucking shit, Brick.” Tre adjusted himself as he took his place in the passenger seat. “That is what I want to do. I want to be like you, man.”

“Then stop being such a creepy fuck. This job’s not about keeping some girl under your bed to rape when you feel like it.” He struggled to rein himself in. He couldn’t let Tre see it was personal. “It’s about collecting Sucre’s money. You want a future as something other than his fuck-toy, you will get your head on straight.” He fired up the engine and flicked his gaze toward Tre. The kid had murder in his eyes. “You got something to say to me, son? You dumb shit, I’m trying to help you survive this.”

Whatever he was going to say, Tre thought better of it and deliberately turned his head to gaze out the window, which suited him fine. At least he’d kept the twisted fucker away from Olivia tonight. He’d figure out the rest later.

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