Free For Fallon by Soraya Naomi Page A

relief.
    Her soft skin that feels like satin and her breasts that fit perfectly in my palms .
    Focusing on the street, I reach the old, brown-brick warehouse quicker than expected. I’ll handle Fallon tomorrow.
    Adriano’s sapphire black M3 is parked to the side. Before exiting my car, I call Adriano to let him know that I’m here and take my compact semi-automatic Smith & Wesson .45 ACP out of my jacket. The door unlocks before I reach it.
    “Damian,” I greet. One of our soldiers on Adriano’s team lets me in.
    Adriano’s voice is rising in the warehouse. “I’m losing patience with you, idiota .”
    The scene is set up in the left corner. The warehouse has four rooms on the right for private handlings, but Adriano likes the effect of the big warehouse where his voice can resonate off the walls.
    One man, face dripping in blood, is strapped to a wooden chair with his hands tied to the back and feet tied together. The chair has plastic underneath for quicker clean-up, a job handled by the prospects and soldiers.
    Adriano’s wearing his white latex gloves to prevent from leaving fingerprints and grips the guy’s hair, yanking his head back in one quick move. An agonizing whine comes from our captive. “Look who’s here,” Adriano says to Jack.
    The guy’s eye is almost swollen shut and is turning purple. He looks at me through the slit of his eyelid.
    “Luca.” Adriano gives me an exasperating look. “He’s lying and covering for someone.” Adriano forces the guy’s head back more, stretching his throat as Adriano stands over him. “I brought in the big guns now. Pun intended.” My Capo’s mouth twists in a satanic smile. “You’ll be sorry you didn’t confess when it was just me.”
    Adriano joins me in front of the guy and hands me a pair of gloves.
    “Name?” I ask Adriano while I put them on.
    “Jack.” Adriano removes his knife from his pocket.
    My gun is stashed in my back pocket, concealing it from Jack. I move closer to him.
    “Help me,” Jack begs.
    I crouch down in front him to be less intimidating. “Jack, I can only help you if you give me straight answers.”
    He stammers, “Y-Yes, a daughter. You can have her; she’s young and a virgin.”
    Fucker. It’s sickening how quickly men cave under torture. He could’ve extended his life if he wanted to protect his family; I might have some sympathy then, but this man only thinks of himself. “I don’t want your daughter,” I keep speaking evenly. “You can choose, Jack. I will ask you one question. If you do not answer truthfully, Adriano will torture you for hours with a blunt knife.” I stand up and resume Adriano’s former position behind Jack. “Or talk now and I’ll let you go.”
    Jack doesn’t make a sound.
    Adriano drops to his haunches and cuts open Jack’s right pant leg up to his thigh. Without warning, he drives his knife into Jack’s knee and - ever so slowly - slices open the skin to the middle of his shin.
    I muffle Jack’s tormented screams by roughly covering his mouth with a white cloth. His head’s frenziedly swaying from side to side. Red covers his leg and blood pools on the floor beneath Jack’s right foot.
    I signal for Adriano to stop. “Ready to talk, Jack?” I remove the cloth, and Jack hyperventilates through his cries yet stays silent.
    Adriano moves his knife lower, slicing open more skin, and I smother Jack’s cries again.
    “Ready now?” I taunt.
    Jack nods his head slowly. “You’ll kill me anyway after I’ve given answers.”
    “I might, or not. Do you want to take that chance? Adriano can keep going if you want.”
    “NO. Stop. I can’t take it anymore.” Jack coughs up spit mingled with blood.
    Adriano steps back just in time so the blood doesn’t splash on him. Revolted, he wordlessly begs me to finish this quickly.
    “Talk. Why were you interfering with the last money drop-off at Crystal Lake? You only get one shot,” I warn him.
    “ Leggia paid me to botch it up.”