Page 2 of Pit

Grabbing a handful of his unwashed hair, I tip his head back so we’re eye-to-eye. “Two seconds and I break your hand.”

“I swear,” he yells.

I snap his fingers back, and he screams in pain. “Let’s try again.”

“A man . . . important looking . . . suit, tie, the lot.”

“I ain’t here for a damn fairy tale,” I growl. “I want names.”

“We don’t get that information. We just call him ‘boss’.” I take his other hand, and he cries out before I’ve even done anything. “Okay,” he yells. “Okay, I’ll tell you. Alec Clay.”

“It means nothing,” says Grizz.

I snap the man’s fingers back, and he sobs uncontrollably. “Fuck, man, I told you what I know.”

“Why’s he taking our shit?” I ask. “How did he know about it?”

“He had a tip-off from a copper. He’s got a buyer coming later tonight. This shit’s worth some money.”

“And don’t we know it. But it ain’t his, it’s ours, and we’re taking it back.”

“He’ll kill me,” he cries desperately.

“We’re gonna do that anyway,” I say, taking a letter opener from the desk and dragging it across his throat. He gurgles, his eyes searching my face in the slight hope I may find a smidgin of decency. I won’t. I never understand why they always look so confused, like they didn’t think hanging in bad circles would lead them to this moment.

I let his head fall back. His hands grip the oozing blood to no avail, and his eyes widen as he realises he’s taking his final breath. I watch the life drain from his eyes, smiling as he gasps one last time.

Tessa

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.I press myself into the dark corner of the room and try to control my breathing.

“Pres, we got it all back. Shadow’s just counting the crates, but it looks like it’s all here. We got the name . . . Alec Clay meananything?” I peer over the stacked crates to where a man in a leather jacket is pacing while talking into a mobile phone.

Another guy in the same jacket is tacking the lids back on some of the crates. The third man is staring into the eyes of Jackson Taylor. The dead eyes.Holy shit, he’s dead.

I feel panic rising again, and I squeeze my eyes closed to try to calm my racing mind. I picture my house, the one I grew up in by the coast.He’s dead. I think about Trixy, the family cat we had.He slit his throat.I picture my beautiful mother, sitting on her bed, combing her gorgeous curly hair.I just witnessed a murder.

“Well, well, well . . .” My eyes shoot open and I gasp, but before I can scream, his hand covers my mouth.The same hand he just used to kill Jackson. He drags me from the corner and presses my back to his front, keeping my mouth covered as he walks me out into the open. The other two men stop what they’re doing to stare at me. “We have a problem.”

“Pres, I’ll call you back,” says the man on the phone, disconnecting the call. “Who the fuck are you?”

The man holding me uncovers my mouth, and I inhale sharply as he takes a handful of my hair instead. “You scream and I’ll kill you,” he warns.

“Te-Te-Tessa,” I stutter.

“Well, Te-Te-Tessa, what are you doing here?” he demands.

My brain freezes. If I tell them I’m here because of Alec, they might kill me too. “Sex,” I manage to say.

“You want sex?” asks the man, smirking.

“No, I’m here for sex. He . . .” I point a shaky finger in Jackson’s direction and a sob escapes me. “He brought me here.”

“Lies,” states the man holding me. He tugs my hair harder, and I whimper. “Treat me like a personal lie detector,” he hisses in my ear. “Now, get fucking talking before you end up like him.”He forces my head to look in the direction of Jackson, and I close my eyes.

“I swear it,” I say, my tone pleading. “It was just a hook-up.”

The other man’s phone rings again and he sighs. “It’s the Pres again. I gotta tell him.” He steps away.

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