Break Free & Be Broken (14 page)

"Why you here?" He asks.

Sage taps me on the head then pulls the shirt from it. "Because of him."

"Yeah, yeah, I get that. But why you?"

"I work for The Gentleman now."

"I hadn't heard."

"There's no reason you would have."

"And what, he put you in charge of our little deal? Hardly seems worth the time of such a 'great' assassin." His tone implies insult. If Sage picked up on it, he didn't let it show.

"The Gentleman heard rumblings of foul play. I was there as insurance."

Tink is visibly shaken. He jumps to his feet. "WHAT!? Foul play? You don't think I had anything to do with this, do you? Why the fuck would I blow my own deal?"

Sage laughs, relieving a bit of the tension in the room. "Relax, Tink, we don't think it was you."

Tink falls back into the warm embrace of his couch, confusion plastered on his ugly face. "Then why'd you bring this fella here?"

"Because, he killed all your people. I got our money back, but you just took a big loss. Considering how far back we go, I figured the proper thing to do was bring the man responsible to you; let you do the honors of questioning him. And once you're done, you could probably get a good price for him. Or kill him. I don't care, and neither does The Gentleman."

Tink's face goes through an assortment of expressions during the explanation: anger, shock, fear, confusion, and finally-suspicion. He stands back up. "Now hold on. Hold on. If you were there, why didn't you stop him?"

The threat of violence droops around Sage like a cloak. I feel it as easily as if I walked from a sauna into a freezer. "I did stop him. Look. He's right here."

"That isn't what I mean! I mean if you were there, how did he-"

"What the hell are you getting at, Tink? If you have more words for me, pick them carefully. I don't like your tone or the accusation of incompetence it implies."

Tink takes a step back, eyes filled with regret and brimming with indignation. He walks over to a desk and takes a fat line of something up his nostril. "I ain't getting at nothing. Just upset, that's all."

"Understandable, but please, if you have any more questions, direct them to our friend here. He knows more than I about the intricate ins and outs of what he managed to accomplish."

"You're right, you're right." Tink stuffs his nose with another line and fixes me with the kind of stare I suspect a father would give a lad who defiled his favorite daughter. "So buddy, who the hell are you and what made you think you could fuck with ME!?"

Here it is. My time to shine. I glance over at Sage, who slaps me on the cheek. "Answer him." He growls.

I'm bewildered and hurt. Wasn't my job to stay quiet until he makes his grand move? He sends me a quick wink, then turns back to Tink and sighs. "It will probably take more than a loud voice and angry words to get anything from this one."

"I'm gettin to that!" Tink grumbles, sauntering up to me with the look of a mad bomber coloring his eyes.

"You're going to die, boy. That's what's certain. The question left unanswered is how that death comes about. We got options. Oh, you bet your ass we got options, so you best play nice. Last time I'm askin. Who do you work for?"

His speech is so cliché I almost laugh. Enter every villain who ever questioned someone in the history of torture. I know I'm supposed to stay quiet, but something about this little cunt is bothering me, so I can't help but let some words slide. "I uh, I don't work for anyone." I say, flavoring my words with a gentle pep and deliberate slowness as if talking to a dim witted grandpa. "I was just having fun."

Tink evaluates me with bloodshot eyes. "Is that right?" He rams a fist into my stomach. It doesn't drive a single wisp of air from my lungs. Again, I almost laugh. "You think this is funny?" He punches me a second time. The power wasn't necessarily greater, but being struck twice in quick succession to the same spot forces a reaction from me. I wheeze and bend forward.

As my head goes down his knee comes up, catching me on the forehead. Again, not a powerful shot, but a knee to the head is a knee to the head, and I'm knocked back onto my ass. The knife hidden there slides dangerously up my back but there's nothing I can do about it. Tink pounces when I hit the ground and begins hitting my face with a combination of punches and slaps, screaming a stream of obscenities and nonsense about his deal and the nerve I had to ruin it.

I'm able to buck him off fairly easily, but as soon as I do so I regret the decision. Being thrown enrages him, and he comes back at me with a new level of ferocity. Kick after kick find shelter on my head. He lands maybe four good ones (it's hard to count when being clobbered) before Sage pulls him off of me.

"Jesus, slow down! Don't you know anything about interrogation? You give him too many shots to the head and you'll dull his senses-make him less susceptible to pain." He says.

"I don't really give a fuck about who he is or where he came from! I'm gunna kill him!" Tink bellows, blitzing toward me. Sage, gratefully, prevents him from reaching me.

"Stop! Use your fucking head, man. Look at this guy! Big and strong as he is, you could easily get ten, twenty grand out of him. You sure you want to kill him?"

"Ah, shit man, that's only a fraction of what he cost me. At this point, I'd pay that just to watch him writhe, squirm, and die."

"Okay, great, that's all fine and good, but you aren't the only one he tried to cross tonight. He needs to be questioned before he dies whether you do it or not. If you'd prefer, I can do it. I'm quite skilled at interrogation. I can promise he will both writhe and squirm at my touch, but it isn’t until after he’s spoken that I can allow him to die."

Tink stands panting, struggling to get himself in check. "Fine. Then get on with it." He reminds me of nothing so much as an obstinate child.

"We should probably go somewhere a little more... private." Sage says, tilting his head toward the window. The blinds of the house next door quickly snap shut as someone disappears: a poor attempt to hide their snooping. Tink walks over and closes his blinds.

"There." He says.

Sage shakes his head. "That doesn't solve the whole problem."

Tink whirls on him. "You think I don't know my neighbors well enough to know that we're fine? They know me. They know there would be consequences if they call the police, no matter what they might see!"

"It isn't what they might see that worries me, it's what they might hear. If we do this proper-as I aim to-our young friend here will be making more of a ruckus than you've ever heard. I plan to make his distress so evident that even your own boys will have a hard time not calling for help. And if anyone happened to walk by... forget about it."

"Can't we just gag him?"

"Why are you making this difficult? I mean, yeah, we could, but don't you have a basement or something? How hard will it be to walk him down stairs? I'm not about to trust my safety to your word that your neighbors are trustworthy. And beyond that, I like to hear my friends scream while I play with them. It excites me; makes me better at doing what needs to be done."

Tink is disturbed by the last part of Sage's words. Resistance leaves his face. "Yeah, all right. I've got a basement. We can take him down there."

"Perfect."

I'm finally pulled to my feet. Sage makes sure the knife is tucked secure in my pants as we march from the room. The men outside, now satisfied they aren't under attack, have relaxed into various positions around the house. One's sitting on a chair fiddling with his gun, the one Sage embarrassed is buried into the couch, and the other, I notice with drooling eyes, is sorting through a big stack of drugs. It boosts my morale to see my reward this close, and hot damn there is a lot of it.

Excellent. I wasn't lied to about the worth of coming here.

Sage suggests turning on some music or something to help cover the noise he claims I'll be making. Tink commands his men to make it so, and then we proceed down some stairs. Both of Tink's guards come with us. At the bottom of the stairs is a hall. We go to a room at the far end of it; a room filled with nothing but a desk, a chair, and a computer. Tink immediately walks over to the desk and snorts a line, followed right away by another.

"So how are you gunna do this?" He asks.

Sage ignores his question and asks one of his own. "Do you like blood, Tink?"

"Blood?"

"Yes, blood. I personally quite enjoy the sight of it, and I think it would look absolutely exquisite covering our friend here. Shall we make him bleed?"

Tink shrugs. "You're the expert."

Sage chuckles and circles me. "Indeed I am. Well, we're going to need a knife then. Could you send one of your men here to grab one?"

"Sure... oh wait! I think I got one down here."

Sage’s mouth ticks in displeasure. It wouldn't look like much to anyone else, but I recognize it as a bump in whatever plan he's hatched. A bead of sweat falls down between my shoulders. This isn't good.

Tink walks to his desk and starts going through it. He scrapes through drawers one by one, finally slamming them all shut. He grunts in annoyance. "Never mind. Either of you got one?" He asks his guards. They both shake their heads. Sage smiles. A trickle of relief finds me. If he's smiling, I'm smiling.

"Fuck. All right. Jake, go grab one." Tink commands, walking back over to Sage and I. The giant we first encountered bows his head and walks out of the room. Sage taps my lower back.

Shit. Here we go.

The second-and I mean the second-the door closes and Jake is gone, Sage pulls the knife, cuts my ties, and imbeds the blade in the remaining guard. I don't see it, but the dull thunk that graces my ear and warm spatter of blood that graces the side of my head tell the whole story.

Tink makes a run for the desk. I shoot off after him-not because I think he may be going for a gun or alarm or something-but simply because he hurt me so I want to hurt him. I catch him as he slows to turn behind the desk, plowing my shoulder into his rib cage. The tackle sends us flying through the air. I land on top of him like a brick on a bug. Something inside him cracks, and he lets out a howl and starts bawling.

"Please don't hurt me! Please! I'll do anything, just please don't hurt me!"

I slap him full force across his mouth then clamp my hand over it. "Shut the fuck up!" I hiss, knuckling his sternum to ensure he gets the message. Sage laughs.

"Don't sweat it. Everyone upstairs is expecting screams, remember? No one is coming to his aid. He is ours. We can do with him whatever we like."

Tink withers as he comes to terms with the truth of Sage's words. He slumps down, trading his obnoxious wails of pain for the soft weeping of defeat. The sudden display of weakness catches me off guard. Seeing him in this shameful state takes my desire for revenge and melts it into vapor. I can only stare at the miserable creature, unsure what to do.

"Oh but you know what?" Sage adds, "That other guy, Jake, will be back any second. Tink, listen to me. I'm going to kill Jake and you know it. He will be dead long before he gets a chance to help you, whether you try to warn him or not. If you can accept your fate and let me kill your man without any craziness from you, it will make your life easier. Does that sound all right?"

Tink nods. Just by the feel of him I can tell he is done. I put my hand near his throat anyway, just in case.

"Don't worry. I won't let him make a peep even if he tries."

Sage appraises me with a look I hadn't yet seen from him: a look of respect. "Why thank you, Chales."

I nod. "You just do what you do."

Sage waits patiently beside the door for Jake to return. He barely gets a foot in the room before Sage is upon him. Sage executes him in the hall and then drags the body inside.

"Want to punish Tink for what he did to you?" Sage asks, cleaning his knife on Jake's pants.

I turn to look at him, but my eyes instead go to Jake. He isn't quite dead. His head is softly wobbling back and forth as the last of his life drains from the gushing red slit in his neck. A couple high pitched gasps for air manage to sneak from the hole. It's revolting.

I look back at Tink, groveling in a puddle of spent tears. He felt as helpless as a child when I slammed into him. I have no desire to cause this wretch more pain. He didn't
really
hurt me, after all: left me with nothing but a few light bruises.

"No." I answer. "I'm good."

Tink gives me a look that resembles gratitude. I made the right choice.

Sage sighs and begins to approach. My nerves set off. I can't stand the thought of him murdering Tink in front of me. I don't want him to murder him at all, so I stand before Tink, creating a barrier between him and Sage.

"Don't kill him." I demand.

Sage stares at me, clearly amused. "I'm not going to; well, at least not yet. He has some information I need."

"I'll tell you anything!" Tink cries. The submissive whine of his voice gives word that he means it.