Free Fallen Stones by Thomas M. Malafarina

almost thirteen years earlier, Jack Moran had been brought before him, bleeding and beaten, pleading for his life, swearing on the departed souls of his wife and daughter he would find a way to pay Washburn back and would do so quickly. Washburn had no desire to kill the man, since it was impossible to get money from a corpse. Likewise, he knew crippling the man would hinder his ability to earn a living and pay back the debt as well. However, he did think the insolent actions of this Jack Moran could not be ignored and the man needed to be taught a lesson.
    His boys has roughed the man up a bit, and Jack had been crying and pleading for another chance, but Washburn felt something more meaningful was needed to drive home the fact that he would not tolerate any more impudent actions on the man’s part. When the word spread on the street, it would also serve to remind others of what would most definitely happen to them, should they likewise cross Emerson Washburn.
    That was when Washburn decided what action he would take. So with two of his goons holding Jack down, with the man's hand positioned flat on a table top; Washburn pulled out a short tin shear and without showing the slightest bit of emotion he methodically cut off Jack's ring finger, ring and all.
    Jack screamed in agony as his blood pooled onto the top of the table, pumping and spurting from the severed stump in perfect rhythm with his now racing heartbeat. Washburn nodded to one of his henchmen; one of the two remaining men who were not busy holding Jack down, and the man secured a gag tightly across Jack’s mouth, muffling his screams. Tears streamed from Jack's eyes as he moaned uncontrollably beneath the gag.
    Washburn backhanded Jack across the face and the shock of the blow brought Jack back from his world of pain to the reality of his current potentially fatal situation. He realized he could very well die within the next few minutes depending entirely upon Washburn’s mood. Jack forced down his agony as he eyes blazed with a mixture of hatred and terror. Washburn sat quietly staring at Jack contemplating the direction his decision would take. After a few moments, Washburn held the bloody severed finger with the ring still in place, just a few inches from Jack's eyes and spoke.
    â€œI know how much this ring means to you Jack, not to mention, I suppose, the finger it was attached to." The goons holding Jack began to chuckle until Washburn gave them a hard look and once again all sound ceased. "I know about the accident which took your wife and daughter, and I know what this ring symbolizes to you.  I'm afraid it's obviously too late for the finger, but I may be willing to give you back your ring and spare your life.”
    â€œI’ll tell you what I am going to do with you, Jack, my boy,” Washburn said. “You seem like a reasonable, level headed young man. I think perhaps I will give you one more opportunity to make restitution.”
    Jack’s look of defiance disappeared, quickly replaced by one of hope, of acquiescence to whatever demand Washburn might make.
    Washburn said, “I hope you realize what I am about to suggest to you is going to make my associate, Gino, over there quite angry, since he would like nothing better than to make you suffer long and hard. Isn't that right, Gino?" Washburn looked over Jack's shoulder toward a mountain of a man standing in the shadows. He had not been one of the men holding Jack down but a much bigger, more menacing figure. From his vantage point and because of the poor lighting in the room, Jack could not determine if the figure said was that of a man or if it were some sort of horrible inhuman creature. The shadowed figure said nothing but instead made an unintelligible grunting sound.
    Â "You see, Jack," Washburn explained, "It's not that Gino is angry or upset with you as I am, or that he even cares about you in the slightest. He's simply one of those special individuals that