Holding up my hands, I waved them around. “Don’t care. Really.”
“Shouldn’t you be out celebrating your birthday?” Kite asked.
“I am. You two strung my piñata up for me,” I chortled and stepped closer to our prisoner. Glaring at him, I ripped the gag out of his mouth. “I want answers, and I can sniff out a lie.”
“Where’s the cat?” he demanded in a panic.
“Put away for now,” I told him, and the prospects laughed behind me.
“It was a giant leopard! What about Verity? Is she…” What right did he have to ask about her or to even speak her name? He threw her at me in the hopes it would allow him to escape his fate. My cat wanted to rip out his throat.
Pulling back my fist, I let go, and it landed in his stomach, knocking him off his feet and making him cry out as his bonds yanked his arms, holding fast. I was almost certain both were dislocated now, but maybe not. Too bad. It would be the start of a fitting punishment.
“Verity is not your concern,” I growled, spit flying out of my mouth and landing on his face. “But since you brought her up, where were you taking her? What were you planning on doing with her?”
“Nothing,” he cried through clenched teeth.
“Try again.”
“I swear. Nothing.”
“Wrong answer.” I punched him in the jaw, sending his head flying back, cutting his lip. “Don’t you value your own life? You tried to throw hers away to save your worthless hide.” I moved over to a counter and grabbed a scalpel. They were great instruments, capable of delivering a lot of pain while keeping the victim alive. It meant the fuckwad could be questioned longer.
I waved the small blade in front of his face, watching as he squealed like a pig. I loved it when they made that sound but didn’t love the fact he just pissed himself again. Did this guy have bladder issues? “Let’s see. Since you were willing to kill her to save yourself, how about we start by taking your eye?” He cried some more. “Too easy? You’re right. I’ll cut off one of your balls, and then the other, and then I’ll make you a eunuch.” I didn’t miss how Kite and Dogg, who had moved behind the man, both covered their groins when I threatened to take my prey’s manhood.
“Enrique! Enrique wanted her. I owed him money for…for drugs. He said if I brought her to him, my debt would go away, and he would take care of me for the rest of my life and give me all the drugs I wanted. I need those drugs. They help me. A van was supposed to wait for us another block over,” he whined while the prospects rolled their eyes. Was this man an idiot? Yeah, he would be taken care of for the rest of his life, all five minutes of it once he handed Verity over to this Enrique guy.
“Enrique, who?”
“I don’t know. Iglesias or something?”
I rubbed my face with my hand not holding the scalpel. “You’re telling me that a famous singer is running a drug ring and asking you to kidnap a woman, my woman, for him?” I deadpanned.
“Y-Y-Your…?” His face lost all color, and his eyes almost popped out of his head.
“Think harder. You have three seconds,” I snarled, dropping the hand holding my blade lower.
“I-I-Ignatius!” he screamed as I shoved the scalpel into his groin area, missing on purpose and instead, only hitting the material of his slacks.
Something about that name sounded familiar. Meeting Dogg’s gaze, I told him, “Go find Aces and give him the name. We need as much information as possible.” He nodded and left.
“Wh-What about m-me? C-Can I go?” my captive stammered.
“Not yet. I need to check on the name you gave me, but then I’ll be sure to send you on your way.” He didn’t need to know it would be straight into an early grave. “Kite, watch him. I’m going to my room. If Aces finds anything or fuckwad here starts talking again, call me. I’ll send Dogg back out here and arrange a couple other prospects to take over in a couple hours.”
“Sure thing, Snow,” Kite quickly agreed.
On my way to my bed to pass out, I caught Knox and Gray up on what I’d learned, which wasn’t much. It was probably a fake name that led to a lot of nowhere.
It wasn’t until I’d laid down in bed and began to close my eyes, that it all came back to me. “FUCK!” I yelled, scrambling to get out of bed and trying not to get tangled up in my blankets.
I ran out of my room and down the hall to Aces’ office. Banging on the door, I practically bounced as I waited for him to answer. “You have to give me—"
Without letting him finish, I pushed him back into his room and toward his computer. “Try Eric English.”
“The guy who tried to be a prospect with us and wound up getting kicked out?” His brow drew down into a frown. “I thought you needed me to check the name Enrique Ignatius.”
“Before he fucked up, he was on that job with Eagle and me. I can’t remember why he started telling us about his family, but he said his dad was from Spain, and his real name was Enrique. Eric could become Enrique. Ignatius is close to English. Just look it up!”
“I thought that guy got himself shot and killed or something like that.”
“More like shot and in a wheelchair.”
I paced as Aces typed, and it didn’t take long before his screens lit up. “Shit!” he exclaimed.
“What?”
“Eric English, aka Enrique Ignatius, aka Henry Gorrell.”
“How did we not know this when he prospected?”
“He didn’t have a record and steered clear of his daddy at the time. His father is Estevan Ignatius.
