Page 64 of Bound by Destiny
“Deke, take it out,” Pops orders, and something passes between grandfather and grandson that we aren’t privy too as Deke nods once and takes the gag out of Derk’s mouth.
“My family knows I got out!” Derk screams, the sounds echoing off the small space. I can see now why Cruz wants this place bigger. Hell, with all of us standing around him, it’s cramped enough.
Pops swings, landing a blow to Derk’s face, the sound of bones crunching echoing the room. “Stop whining, you fuckin’ pussy.”
Derk moans in his seat, proving yet again that Ransom didn’t raise him. If he had, we may be dealing with a completely different animal and not the pussy in front of us. Good for us, bad for him.
Pops bends down and opens the bag, pulling out an IV. “This is gonna sting.” He looks over the room. “Coop, come hold his arm still, wouldn’t want to have him bleed out—yet.”
The man screams as the needle goes in, and Pops tapes it with duct tape. Pops pulls out several syringes, each with a clear fluid.
“What are you doin’?” Derk asks, panicking and once again trying to move his arm that is now strapped to the arm of the chair from when Cooper helped Pops. The chair moves with him.
“You know, we need to bolt that fucker to the floor,” I muse as I watch the legs scoot. “Be a lot easier.”
“Noted,” Cruz says with a half smile.
Pops holds up one of the plastic injectors showing it to Derk. “Now, I wonder which one this is… hmm… Is it Potassium Chloride, which you fucked up trying to give me. Or is it heroine; either way, you die. Or is it truth serum… Let’s try it and see.”
“No!” Derk scoots in the chair more. Annoyed with it, I walk up and put my foot on the rung at the back of the chair, stilling good ol’ Derk.
“Thanks, son,” Pops acknowledges, turning back to his task. “See the PC is what they give to people on death row. Usually takes about forty-five minutes to fully kill someone. So even if this is PC—we still have time together.” He injects it into the tube coming out of the IV with a skill that’s pretty impressive.
Derk has tears rolling down his eyes. What a fuckin’ pussy. This isn’t going to be as much fun as any of us originally thought. I have a feeling a couple of blows will have him singing like a canary.
“Rhys,” Pops calls as Rhys steps forward with the plier—guess it won out.
“This is gonna hurt.” The hand with the IV slowly, monotonously, loosens each one of its nails with blood falling to the floor. Derk screams, whines, and whimpers throughout it.
Pops puts a hand on Rhys’ shoulder. “Thanks, son.”
“My pleasure.” Rhys is one scary motherfucker. Even on the same team, the way he gets off on the pain is unreal.
“The truth serum should be kicked in by now.” Pops nods to Buzz.
“Do you have any siblings?”
Derk’s head rolls back on his neck, like his neck decided to give up the fight. He’s not a pain person; this is good. Sooner we get the answers, the sooner we can be done with him and erase him from our lives.
“No,” he moans as Dagger comes up with the hammer and crushes one of Derk’s fingers. The scream is ear-busting. “I mean it! No! I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”
“Does Ransom have any other kids?”
Derk’s eyes begin to close, and I smack him upside the head. “Answer the fuckin’ question.”
“Just gotta …” He trails off again, and Dagger steps forward removing the guy’s boot and going to town on his toes. That quickly jolts him awake. “He died because you took his woman.” The man grows some balls and actually spits the words at Pops. “You needed to be dealt with.”
“Awe, isn’t that cute, Pops?” Cruz says, pushing off of the wall. “He thinks he’s the executioner.” Cruz leans down in Derk’s face. “We’re the fuckin’ judge, jury, and executioner.”
“He hated all of you,” Derk continues, not giving a shit what Cruz says. “I had to avenge his honor!” He screams loudly as Dagger takes off another toe.
Dagger looks up and shrugs, a chuckle escaping me. Damn ol’ man.
“That’s all the shit we know,” GT barks. “Kids, yes or no?”
“No,” he growls.
It takes us a good hour to get out of him very little information, but from the sound of it—the nieces and nephews didn’t have any contact with Ransom, and this dimwit here didn’t spend much time with Ransom either. It’s more like he had some idea of who his daddy was and the bond they shared.
