Page 40 of Graves & Griggs
Griggs drives us to the brother’s shitty-ass apartment. It’s in a sketchy part of town, so you’d really think he’d have better locks onhis door. Alas, it takes no effort at all to pick the lock, and soon I’m tiptoeing into the house with two sacks over my shoulder. I have an eager smirk on my face to complete the moment, really making me feel like a dupe of the Grinch or something.
Because I can’t help myself, I start humming under my breath before a hand smacks the back of my head.
“Are you seriously hummingThe Grinchtheme song?” Dominic hisses.
“I’m getting into the holiday spirit!” I whisper with a smile.
He shoots me an outraged look, then glances around us. “We’re on a fucking job—get your head in the game.”
I look him up and down with disgust. “Your attitude,” I say with a shake of my head. “Hate, hate, hate… LOATHE entirely.”
“Zayden,” he grits out.
I laugh lightly, shaking my head as I continue walking. Why does he always have such a stick up his ass? According to Dominic’s research, Phillip Coombs lives alone with no partner or kids, so it really is simple.
Dom went over the plan about a hundred fucking times in the car—we have to question him first—as if he knows how bloodthirsty I am. Like he knows that the demons inside of me are clawing at my flesh, begging to be released.
Griggs and Dominic scan the place, weapons drawn, while I skip through the house. There’s no need for all of that. I have not a doubt in the world this sad sack is unsuspecting as hell. To prove myself right, I push open the bedroom door and find a prematurely balding man with a keg for a belly stretching a white sweat-stained tank top. The room has an odor that doesn’t please me, and I wrinkle my nose at the offensive smell. What is wrong with some men? A bar of soap isnotthe enemy.
I turn to Griggs and Dominic as I shake my head. “Grab Stinky and bring him into the living room. I’m not working in there,” I say as I move to the living room, where I set my bagsbeside the Christmas tree, then take my time unpacking my goodies.
I hear a gasp of surprise come from the room before the sound of struggling. Then Griggs is dragging him across the floor by what little hair he has left and Dominic sets him in a chair. Moving around the Christmas tree, I find the plug and push it into the outlet. The entire room illuminates with colored lights, and I clap my hands, prepared to get to work.
“Rope,” Griggs says.
I nod as I reach into my bag and hand him the rope I grabbed, though I did dress it up a bit.
“Red garland?” Dominic asks, assessing the sparkly rope.
“Garland wrapped around rope,” I reply as I begin tying him to the chair with it.
Griggs and Dominic both exchange a look and shake their heads before Phillip begins babbling.
“What’s going on? Where am I? What do you want?”
“That’s entirely dependent on what you can give us, Phillip Morris Coombs, born at St. Martha’s Hospital in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, on September 9that 6:42 PM—6lbs 2oz.”
“So he wasn’t always a fat fuck?” I ask.
“Not at all,” Dominic says before looking back to the man who’s as white as a ghost.
“H-how do you know me? Why are you here?” he stumbles.
“We’re here for… information,” Dominic says cryptically. “Your survival is dependent upon the helpfulness of your information, so let’s just cut to it, shall we?”
He nods shakily as Dominic tilts his head to the side with curiosity.
“Your brother recently was given orders to follow a woman. Why?”
Phillip frowns, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I don’t talk to my brother.”
Dominic just looks at me, as if giving me permission, and I practically skip over to him, delivering a hearty punch to his mouth that has a few teeth skittering across the floor before Dom continues.
“Let’s try that again because either your phone company is lying, or you are. I saw records of you having a phone call with him just yesterday morning.”
His eyes frantically move between the three of us before his muscles flex like he’s attempting to free himself. When he realizes he can’t strong-arm his way out of this, he heaves a few breaths and shakes his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know much. I?—”
I match my last hit on his other side, keeping him even of course. Blood runs out of his mouth and down his chin as Griggs grabs him by the throat, snarling into his face.
