Page 69 of Beneath Scarred Vows
I straighten, looking at Dimitri, who nods slightly, confirming the man's claim.
"Who shot, then?" I ask.
The man shakes but doesn't answer.
"Who?" I yell and take out my gun, walking to the man next to him and pressing the gun to his forehead.
"Him?"
The man shakes his head no.
I move to the next, aggressively pushing my gun against his forehead. "Him?"
No response.
I push harder, making the man's head tilt back.
"I said. Him?"
The man nods.
Bang.
I squeeze the trigger. Blood and bits of gray shoot out the back of the man's head as darkness overtakes his eyes. The others jumpat the sudden noise, and I watch as the man's head hangs to the side, blood pouring from the new hole I've just given him.
I move to the next man and place my gun to his forehead. He screams through the gag, the barrel burning his skin from the recent shot.
I can't quite make out what he's saying, but I know he's begging for his life.
"So here's what I'm thinking—and Theo, correct me if I'm wrong here. You," I say, pointing to the man I've been speaking to with my gun, "say you were driving, and the man next to you was as well. This piece of shit is dead, so that means," I say, moving down one more to the last guy at the end, "that this fucker was also a shooter. Is that right?"
It's a rhetorical question. I don't need an answer. Even Theo knows, because I see the smile on his face.
Bang.
My bullet enters the man's left eye socket and comes out the other side with bits of hair, bone, and blood before lodging in the wall behind him.
"And then there were two," Dimitri says, laughing.
I take a step back and look at the line of four men. The first two sitting upright—the first staring wide-eyed at me, mumbling some begging nonsense. The second just staring, still gagged. And the last two, down, bloody, and dead.
"Please. Please, we can work something out. Don't kill me. I just drove."
I nod and put the gun in my holster.
"I'm not going to shoot you. I'm going to use you to send a message back to this, uh, Sebastian Makris."
"What are we going to do with the other guy?" Dimitri asks.
I shrug. "You want to do the honors?"
"Really?" he asks, stepping forward.
"Yes. You found him. It involved our sister and?—"
I don't even need to finish. Dimitri steps past me and approaches the gagged man, brings out a knife, and in one swift motion slams the blade right into the man's windpipe.
The man shakes, gurgles, and blood pours like water from his throat as Dimitri pulls out the knife.
