Titan (Dark Kings 1)

I enter a room and see a couch facing a TV. Static plays on the screen. Seats wrap around the walls, indicating it’s the waiting area. Walking around it to the front, a man lies across it, holding a bottle of rum in his hand. The blanket barely hanging on.

I place my gun in my waistband and look up at Luca. “You got the bag?”

He nods and holds it up. “Just tell me where you want him.”

Bones and I grab the guy and gently begin to move him to the nearest room, careful not to wake him just yet. We lie him in a dentist chair. It doesn’t have armrests, so I pull his arms behind the chair and Nite duct tapes them together. He shifts a little but doesn’t wake.

I sit down at the head of the chair and press the button to lower the headrest so he’s lying flat while Bones wraps tape around his legs to secure them to the bottom half of the chair. This bastard isn’t going anywhere. He’s going to die here.

Luca is over at the mini sink to the right, filling a jug with water. Nite drops the duffel bag at my feet. I reach down and grab the washcloth out of it.

“Everybody ready?” I ask, thankful the guy had some alcohol before he passed out. Otherwise, he would have already woken up.

Everyone nods. I lean over the chair and slap the guy across the face.

“What …?” He opens his heavy eyes. “What’s going on?” He starts fighting the restraints. “Who the fuck are you?” His large eyes shoot to each one of us. “What the fuck …?” He fights it harder, making the chair rattle. “Let me go.”

“Who sent you to the York’s house?” I demand, getting to the point. I want to end this shit tonight.

“Fuck you!” he spits out.

“Wrong answer.” I throw the washcloth over his face, and Luca begins to pour the water over it. Waterboarding—old yet effective.

His body struggles in the chair, and Luca stops. I pull away the cloth.

“You …” Cough. “Son …” Another cough. “Bit…ch.” He spits out the last bit.

“We can do this all night,” I say. “Now, again, who sent you to the York residence?”

“HELP ME!” he screams, with his struggle.

“Again,” I tell Luca. And this time he places the cloth over the guy’s face and pours water on it. I count to six before I snap my fingers, and he stops. “I doubt you’ll last past ten seconds.”

Everything on him is covered in water. It’s even splashed on my shirt, and the bottom of my pant legs and shoes are wet.

“I say we just end it now,” Bones offers, pulling a knife out of his pocket and pressing it to his throat. Bones has always preferred the bloody side of things. I couldn’t care either way as long as it gets done.

“No! No!” the guy cries. “I don’t know. It was sent through a text.”

I arch a brow. “A text? To what phone?”

“On the floor. By the couch,” he rushes out.

Nite exits the room to go look for said phone.

“Please.” He begins to sob. “I didn’t hurt her.”

I grab his throat and squeeze it, taking his air away. “Yes, you fucking did,” I say through clenched teeth.

Just then, Nite enters and hands a phone to Luca. He goes through it and then looks at me. I don’t like the look in his eyes. “The only number he had contact with that night is a New York number.”

“New York?” Bones mimics my thoughts exactly. Who the hell do we know in New York?

At least we have a location. That’s all we need to know for now. “Thanks for the information.” I slap the guy on his wet chest, and water splashes from his soaked shirt. Reaching down into the duffel bag, I grab the other cloth that is in a Ziploc baggie. It’s been soaking for the past three hours.

I put gloves on, then open the baggie. Grabbing it, I wad it up and shove it into his mouth, ending his protests. “Bones.”

He takes the duct tape and wraps it around the guys mouth and the back of the chair, successfully taping his head to it so he can’t get free.

His body begins to convulse as he chokes on the contents of the rag. I smile. “Swallow it up. It’s been soaking in poison, it’s going to eat you from the inside out.”

EMILEE

Jasmine, Haven, and I sit on the couch at the Royal Suite. The guys left us with Grave and Cross.

They’ve been over in the corner having their own conversations. Grave’s cell keeps going off, and I’m pretty sure it’s a girl. Every now and then, he smiles and adjusts his pants. She’s obviously sending him dirty pictures.

“What is wrong with you two?” Haven asks us.