Page 119 of Stabby Little

My fingers go numb. "You're fucking with me."

I thought bringing these photos to Michael would calm him. I thought he wouldn't go straight to interrogation. He's used less violent techniques to interview his enemies in the past when I stroke his ego. Showing him these pictures is definitely a way to do that. I was wrong.

"He's walked these streets long enough. He murdered Xavier and Gordon and we're going to learn why."

“Look." I backtrack at once. “We can corner Kobe here on his way to class. We don't need to jump straight to interrogation."

"He killed Xavier. He's a danger to my operation."

"I need to think about this. I'm not one-hundred-percent sure that's true."

"Xavier could've raped him." Michael spits the words out. "Or one of his friends. He wasn't the nicest guy."

A sick feeling sinks through me. "You knowingly employed a rapist?"

"I need men who don't experience moral hangups to get jobs done. Maybe if you'd raped a few men, you'd hop on the next plane to Abu Dhabi. You need to get your head out of your ass, Grant. Xavier assisted me with a delicate part of my operation and he never dropped the ball—unlike you and Jagger. If I could rely on anyone, it was him. Gordon, too. He delivered supplies to my warehouse every weekend and never missed a shipment. Sure, he helped himself to my wares when he thought I wasn't looking and left a few of them bruised as fuck. But he did his job well enough so I figured he deserved to have fun. You could be having fun, too, if you weren't such a bitch. You and Jagger could've come into other parts of my business. Maybe if you hadn't been so hung up on that fucking boy I could've brought you in. You'd make five times your current salary plus commission for every new product you brought to me."

I scoot back. "I need to go."

"Tell me what you told Khalid at Tiffy's wedding.” Michael stares dead into my eyes.

My palms sweat as I turn around. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You asked Khalid about my Yonkers warehouse."

I slam my palms on Michael's desk. "That's a lie."

"What else did you ask Khalid?"

I let out a growl. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

"Cages,” I spit out. “I heard rumors of cages in the basement that contained human trafficking victims. Khalid informed me they were for the black market adoption trade."

"Did you believe him?"

"After the stories I heard, I didn't believe a word out of his mouth. He's not a paragon of credibility."

Michael rises from his desk. "Khalid lied to you. The cages were for pitbull breeding."

"Bullshit."

"We run fights in the warehouse basement every weekend. Gordon brought pitbulls to the events."

Standing up, I kick my seat back. "Boys crept out of the manhole in the warehouse alley. They were extremely young and they wore little to no clothes as they escaped."

It happens in an instant.

The palpable spark that blazes in Michael's eyes.

He roars as he charges me and grabs my neck. "Who told you that?"

"I read it in an alternative news source online."

Michael slaps me.

Hard.

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