Page 26 of One Love

“One of many theories is that it comes from the Latin ‘cunnus’.” I pause for effect or else this just isn’t any fun.

“Well good for fucking you.” As he speaks and cries, the blood running down his face and across his mouth sprays all over his arm and hand. I’m still holding him down at a weird side angle so I can speak directly into his wounded ear. Or…missing ear? I mean, right now it’s just a hole.

“I’m not done.” I tap the side of his head and revel at the gush of blood and Shane’s accompanying screams. “The word ‘cunnus’ means ‘sword sheath’. Isn’t that ironic?” Letting go of his head, I step up in front of him and show him the holster for my knife. “I mean, it’s not a sword, but close enough.”

When I crouch down to look him straight in the eye, I ask again. “Where the fuck is Ronan?” Shane’s head is leaning back, bobbing, but I see the defiance in his flat, blue eyes, not missing the moment he decides to piss me off.

Jumping to the side, I watch the spit land on his thigh and shake my head. “You’re pathetic.”

My hand flies through the air, the knife slicing across his face and painting a slash of red across his cheek.

“Fuck you! You’re not going to find him! He’s not even in the fucking state, you stupid bitch!”

That gets my attention. But I can’t show weakness, not now.

“Gag him.” Without even looking at Shoo and Binx, I wait for them to follow my order. And because Shoo is who he is, he rips open Shane’s T-shirt—bloodied and dirty from whatever hole he crawled out of—and pushes it in his mouth to shut him up. It doesn’t take long for the cotton to soak up his blood, no doubt invading his sense of smell too.

“Out of state, huh? Are you hoping I’ll play twenty questions with you?”

Shane thrashes as I speak, trying to get the gag out of his mouth, but it’s no use, that thing is in for the long haul.

“It’s funny that you would think loyalty to Ronan will give you some kind of power.” Ignoring his cries of pain, I keep talking like he’s not sitting there trying to get free. “It won’t. You’re going to die here today. The only choice you have is whether you go easy or hard.” Shane shakes his head at my words, probably hurling insults at me, but I can’t make any of it out, obviously.

Throwing the knife in the air, I keep my eyes on his as I catch the hilt and in one smooth move, plant the blade right through the middle of his palm. Shane’s head snaps back, his eyes screwed tightly closed as every muscle in his body contracts all at once.

“Where. Is. Ronan?”

Shane is outright crying now, tears mixing with blood and snot as he shakes his head and convulses on the chair.

“This can all stop if you just give me something I can use.”

With his eyes closed as he sobs, his chest heaves from the pain and the difficulty in breathing. He’s only got himself to blame. Slowly, his lids open and it’s clear the pain is about to make him pass out. I definitely do not want that shit. He’s no good to me acting out a scene fromSleeping Beauty, I need him talking.

Raising the knife above my head, I make a big show of bringing it down on his kneecap, and that’s when I see it. The moment when torture has taken its toll. The second they’ve given in.

With a nod, I silently tell Shoo to take out the gag so he can speak.

“I…I don’t know…” Oh for fuck’s sake, I’m about to lose my fucking patience with his idiot. “About Ronan.” The way he speaks tells me he’s got more to say so I give him the time he needs before judging whether or not he’s worth my patience. “But I can…tell you who called me…that night.” He squeezes his eyes tight and takes in a shaky breath and I fight the urge to give him the universal sign for hurry the fuck up. “The night…I ran you…over.”

Shane’s head lolls to the side and it’s clear I don’t have much time here.

“All right, Shane. I’ll bite. Who was it?” Maybe it’s useful, maybe it’s a dead-end but I won’t know until I know.

“Harvey…Cook.” I frown at his admission because it rings zero bells.

“Who the fuck is that?” Shoo speaks first, sounding like he doesn’t believe a word Shane’s saying.

“I don’t know.” We’re all looking at this guy and I realize, in this moment, that he really is useless.

“I don’t have time for this shit. You boys can have fun.” Wiping my blade on the only part of Shane’s clothes that isn’t already soaked in it, I lean into his good ear. “With a little luck, you’ll pass out quickly because these two can play for hours and hoursand hours.” At my words, Shane’s eyes spring open, his pupils constricting as realization dawns. He’s going to pay for the sins of his crew and his affiliation to them. “No hard feelings, Shane, but that bike is my best friend and when you fuck with mine, you basically fuck yourself.”

With that, I turn and walk out. I’ve got shit to do and calling Glitch is the first thing on my list.

Snapping my dirty gloves off as I step outside and slide the metal door closed—we don’t want the sounds to filter out and catch the attention of a passerby—I then press the third contact on my list.

“What’s up, Boss? Got something for me?” Glitch is chewing on something when he answers on the first ring and, by the sound of it, I’m guessing it’s his Cheetos.

Gross.

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