Page 83 of The Devil's Den

I curse under my breath as the van jerks, before I step on the gas, a black pickup truck honking at me from behind. I stop, letting him pass, and he throws me a middle finger.

I drive on, the cigar shop only half a mile away according to the GPS. I’ve got more fire power than I could ever need, and with my fighting skills, I hope I can take whoever is holed up there. I’m wishing it’s Faro and Agnelo so I can kill them both.

A few minutes later and I’ve arrived, driving around the block once I see the place. It’s on a corner, huge empty lot, and the only other place in the area is a closed deli across the two-way street.

Parking half a block away, I step out of the van, lifting my hoodie and keeping my head down as I walk, hoping no one recognizes me.

Heading into the parking lot, I find two white vans and a black SUV parked all the way at the end. The place is pitch black, except for one streetlamp illuminating the lot. I step around the cigar shop, peering through the small window, seeing three faces inside, but no one I know. Two of them count a large stack of cash, while another is smoking.

My hand grips the door handle, trying to see if it’ll turn. Once it does, I let go. Removing a pistol from my waistband and a flip knife from my pocket, I keep both close as I look through the window again. Aiming the gun at the one smoking, I slowly pull the trigger until the bullet cracks through the glass, puncturing him right in the temple.

“What the… Sonny?”

That’s when I rush in.

Pop.

Pop.

They fall fast, their bodies hitting the floor, the faint sound of my footsteps near them. One is dead, blood seeping from the center of his chest, while the third stares up at me with fear in his eyes, his hand trembling with the gun in his palm. A round circle of crimson saturates his white t-shirt around his stomach.

“Who a-are you?” he asks.

“A friend.” A smirk pulls at my mouth.

When he fires a shot at me, I duck, hitting him with one in the thigh.

“Ahhh!” His weapon clacks to the ground and he attempts to cover the hole in his leg, trying desperately to cling to the life he’ll no longer see.

“Where’s Aida? Where did Agnelo send her?”

“I—ahh…” he stammers with a jerk of his body.

“Tell me!” I growl, stamping into his leg wound.

“S-sold her to someone. No names. Didn’t tell us.”

“Has he been here? And don’t fucking lie!” I dig my heel into him.

“No, man. I s-swear.”

“Fuck!” I roar, smashing a fist into my temple.

“I need to know where the hell Agnelo is, and if you don’t tell me…” I stomp my sneaker over his hand, pushing so hard, he screams. “Things are gonna start getting even worse for you.”

He cries, unable to catch his breath as I remove my foot.

“Okay, then.” I pop him with another bullet into the other thigh. “I can do this all fucking day. They have no idea I’m here. So talk or I keep shooting.” I flip the knife in my hand. “Or cutting.” I lower the tip of the blade into his dick. “I’d do anything for her, so you better tell me where the hell your boss is, or I’m gonna start cutting.”

The blade pierces his balls and he gasps with desperate inhales.

“W-warehouse. Hiding. Please, don’t cut my dick.”

“Address.”

“Fifty-six Main Street, right on the corner of Smith. Ca-can’t miss it,” he stammers, lost to the pain.

“You better be telling the truth.”

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