Page 126 of Bad Seed
Aubry. My mouth opens, ready to spill the truth.
But if I do, he’ll kill him. I’ll lose him.
Forever.
I have to keep stalling even if it costs me an eye.
Clenching my fists tight, I lock my jaw.
“So fucking be it!” Ato squeezes and I scream.
Something heavy hits the floor from the hallway. Twice. The pressure breaks off of my skull. I nearly fall backward as Ato lets go of me. But he still presses the blade to my throat as he shouts, “What’s going on out there?”
Tears well up in the eye he attacked. I cup my hand over it and stare with my left. A single leather shoe lands in the doorframe. A green shoe.
The men all gasp as the shoe is followed by a long, gangly leg, then a man in a suit coat and fedora. His face is tanned like old leather left out in the summer, with wrinkles or scars creating a crosshatch pattern across his face. After sweeping off his hat, he stares right at Mr. Ato.“Hello, Tom,” he says with a smile. “We need to talk.”
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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
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AUBRY
The head of the Brassica family strolls into the room like he’s making a lunch meeting. He doesn’t bat an eye at the blood splattered across the carpet, save for stepping around it to protect his shoes. So thin I swear I can hear his skin snapping over his bones, he is the complete opposite in Mr. Ato in size, both figuratively and literally.
“Brock.” The madness snaps from Mr. Ato’s eyes only to be replaced with utter panic. “We don’t have anything scheduled…” He waves his hand at Goji who flips his gun around and pulls out his phone.
“Nothing here,” Goji says as if that can shield Mr. Ato from the mighty fist of the Brassicas.
“Can a man not stop by to check on his assets?”
Sadie’s forgotten. I’m forgotten. The files. Everything vanishes from Mr. Ato’s mind as he folds in on himself and scampers away from a man that could be blown over in a light breeze. “Of course. Of course. Please. Can I get you a drink? There’s…” He stares at the mess of glass, some of which is still embedded in Red’s face.
I snake a hand out to take Sadie by the arm only for Green to dig the gun into my temple. “Don’t,” he warns.
The move snags him the wrong attention. Mr. Oli casually glances over his shoulder at the piece about to splatter my brains across the tomato painting. “Is that really necessary?” he asks.
“Put the gun down,” Mr. Ato orders.
“But you said…”
“Do it!”
With a grunt, Green flips his gun away. I barely wait for the metal to pull off my skin before I take Sadie and herd her behind me. She trips in the pools of blood failing to soak into the scotch guarded rug. As her hands land on my chest and back, I cinch my arm around her waist and hold her.
My eyes dart to the door, but there’s more than just Green and Goji in the way. The Brassica head brought friends. A lot of them.
“What…? What can I get you, Brock?” Mr. Ato asks, scampering for his stock of good shit. “Would you like a chair?” He glances to the one they tried to torture me in. The one I broke in half in the fight. Without missing a beat, he grabs his and starts to wheel it around.
“That isn’t necessary, Tom,” Mr. Oli assures him with a grandfatherly smile. “This shouldn’t take long. I’m only here for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
The smile drops. “Clarity.”
“Hey.”
