Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“Of course.”
“So, what’s the deal?”
“The deal is you let me run the show.”
He shoots me another toothy smile.
“It’s my mess, Giorgio. I’ll handle it my way.”
“All righty,” he sing-songs.
We cross Long Island to North Shore Beach and drive a distance along the coast. My men are already outside, about a mile from the house. I park the car on a small dirt road off the side and fit my gloves before taking my gun from under my seat.
“Where’s your piece?” I ask Giorgio.
He takes a knife from his pocket and shows it to me.
“Let’s go.”
I motion for the men to follow. We spread out over the area, creeping along the bushes. When we reach the big property, I wait for the geek on my team to give the sign. As soon as he’s cut the power and the alarm remotely, he gives me a thumbs-up.
“How long do we have?” I ask.
“As long as you need. I switched off the alarm and looped it through the neighbor’s current, so it won’t send a power down signal to the security company. As far as anyone is concerned, the alarm is working normally.”
“Cameras?”
“All down,” he confirms.
I turn to the footmen I sent to do reconnaissance. “Dogs?”
The team leader shakes his head.
“Neighbors?”
“They don’t have visibility on the house.” The leader’s mouth pulls up in the corner. “These rich people think it’s nice to have big private windows with million-fucking-dollar-views, but those are security nightmares.”
“Street cameras?”
“Nada,” the geek says.
“Is he alone?”
“All by his lonesome self. No wife and no kids. No staff or bodyguards.”
He must have a lot of faith in his alarm system. Or maybe he thinks his position will spare him.
At my signal, my men follow me to the beach-facing side of the property where there’s no wall. The wind rustles the grass polls on the dune, which covers us from the seaside in the unlikely event that a boat cruises past at this hour. We keep on the gravel path that runs around the house, leaving as little tracks as possible.
It doesn’t take us long to get into the house. It’s a modern design with a lot of glass and sliding doors. The geek feeds the infrared to my smartwatch. Kearney is in the master suite, presumably sleeping like a baby.
I climb the steps that are suspended on cables, my sneakers quiet on the tiles, and push open the bedroom door. Justice Kearney lies in a huge bed under a black silk sheet, snoring softly. I walk inside and close the curtains, blacking out the advantage we had of the moonlight.
Kearney doesn’t stir as I go over to the bed. It’s only when I switch on the lamp on the nightstand that he snorts like a pig, his mouth going slack, and frowns. By the time he’s blinked himself awake, the blade of my knife is indenting the pasty skin of his neck.
His eyes grow large and then panicked as he takes in the men surrounding his bed.
I smile. “Did you really think you could fuck with me and get away with it?” I click my tongue. “Your bad, Kearney.”
He wheezes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Shaking my head, I say, “Try again.”
“W–what do you want?”
“I’m going to make you pay for what you did to her.” I bring my face close to his and tell him in a soft, low voice, “Nod if you know who I’m talking about, but don’t you dare say her name unless you’re happy to part with your tongue.”
He nods frantically, his eyes bulging as the blade nicks his skin.
“Good,” I drawl. “I’m a fair man, so I’m going to give you two choices.”
I flick my fingers at which the man on my right takes the M-80 firecracker from his pocket and shows it to Kearney.
“One, I light this baby and shove it nice and deep up your ass. It should make some fireworks when it goes off. You may require reconstructive prostate surgery if you don’t bleed out. Whatever the case, you’ll never know the pleasure of climaxing again.”
He starts to shake under the covers, his legs trembling under the sheet and his chest heaving in his black silk pajama shirt.
“Two.” I lean closer still, looking him straight in the eyes. Whatever he sees in mine makes him piss himself. I hear the trickle before I smell it.
“Goddamn,” I say, turning my face away in disgust as the pungent smell of ammonia mixed with the asparagus he had for dinner climbs up my nose.
“I–I don’t—”
“Two,” I repeat, shutting him up by pressing the blade harder and drawing a thicker line of blood. “I amputate your dick. Balls too. That way, you can’t make any more illegitimate children.”
He stutters and slobbers, a bubble of snot blowing from his left nostril.
“Choices, choices,” I say. “They’re not always easy to make, are they? Whatever you decide, when you call an ambulance, you better say you fell on a meat axe and chopped off your junk, or I will amputate every part of you one by one until someone has to push your trunk around in a cart on wheels. If you choose the first option, you can always say you wanted to use your asshole as a candlestick, but all that pressure felt so good in your ass that your butthole sucked that firecracker real deep when you came.” I trace the vein that pulses in his neck with the tip of the blade. “What’s it going to be, Kearney?”