Page 4 of Finders Keep Her
“Can’t a man get a break?”
“That fucker sold our sister out.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Does he think I'm down in the asylum for shits and giggles? “He passed out on me and already pissed his pants.” The smell of urine and death are two you never get used to. That drain I installed in the center of the floor is a lifesaver.
We'd been searching for who had given up our sister's location after we wiped out the Amato family. We knew someone had to have told them where she was when she left the country. They didn't have the intent to hurt her. The opposite, really.
The son of the Amato family wanted her hand in marriage and was hoping to win her over on his own. None of that shit matters, though. A person from insideourorganization handed the information over to another family.
Whether the other family was a friend or a foe made no difference. Doing so made you as good as dead. It’s never a good sign when I show up on your doorstep, and everyone knows that. I’m not the Marino in the fancy suit that spends my time behind a desk like my brothers Z and War. I take more of a hands-on approach.
"I want this house cleaned up." War is irritated. I don't blame him. It's an uneasy feeling when you don't know who to trust around you. I’m just as antsy to get answers as he is, but there's really no time limits on these things. Sometimes the offender sings like a canary, and sometimes it takes a little more persuading from me before they divulge the information I’m looking for. Let’s be perfectly clear, though; I always get what I want in the end. “You think he has another name to give you?”
“Yes.” I can say it without hesitation, and War won’t question it either. I don’t have a clue how I know this shit, but I do. It’s a sense I get with people to know if they’re full of shit or not telling me everything. War thinks I’m a human lie detector.
“Let me know,” he says before ending the call.
I glance back up to the screen. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Two seconds after I took my eyes off the TV, they let the game slip right through their fingers.
I power the TV off, wondering if my little fox is searching for me. I kick my feet back up on the chair, leaning back and taking a bite of my apple.
I was hoping that she might have caught on to me knowing she's there, and that's why she's not around as much. I spooked her, but there is something else going on. I’d rather her be spooked over me than someone else.
I think back to what Z told me about her having a handler. Z has done projects for the government for years. Every now and then, he'll drop off the map to go work with them. Marks shares the same handler. I learned that little tidbit. One that isn’t too happy with her.
Bruce.
I could kill him. That might piss Z off. I don’t know who the man is, but we all have our ways of getting information. But I don’t think it’s because of him that she’s hiding out.
I click my tongue, debating what I should do next. That restlessness inside of me is starting to wear thin. That's the thing with my little fox, though. I have to move easily, be patient, but that isn't me. It might be time I go back to brute force. That has always worked best for me. Why change now?
"I know you're awake." I drop my feet down from off the desk, tossing my radio down on it. I turn in my chair. "Sleep well?" He doesn't respond. I stand, pulling my knife out from my belt. "If you don't want to speak, then you don't need a tongue."
"I already told you." He spits blood onto my floor. Great, I just cleaned that.
I let out a sigh. Normally this would be entertaining, but not today. I'd rather be home, playing with my little fox.
"You're really starting to piss me off." I walk over to him, jamming the knife into his thigh. There is already blood on the floor. He wails out a scream. I run my fingers along the table against the wall, debating which tool to use next.
What would she think of the things I do? Would it scare her? Would she find me killing her handler, Bruce, for her endearing? I don’t see Marks as a flowers kind of girl, but I could kill Bruce and get her flowers afterward to celebrate.
I'm sure she's heard things. Marks is too nosy to not go poking around if she wants information, and I know she’s more than curious about me. There is no other reason for her to be watching me.
It takes me another thirty minutes to get the information out of him. It takes longer to clean up the mess. That's the worst part. One of the best investments I've ever made was the furnace. It makes getting rid of the bodies a whole lot easier. Really cuts the time off of disposal.
I make my way up the concrete steps, pushing open the door in the ceiling. The sun floods in, blinding me momentarily as I step out into the middle of nowhere. I drop the door back down, spinning the wheel to lock it before pulling the fake patch of grass over top.
The first thing I do when I get back into my truck is grab my phone out of the glove box. I wait till I’m back on the main road before I power it on.
I wait… for now.
Chapter Four
ELLIE
“Rise and shine!” Dad shakes my bed.
“Is there even shine out there yet?” I groan, pulling the blanket up over my head. Of course my dad yanks it right back down. Who is this chipper in the morning? A psychopath, that’s who.
