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Unconscious but alive.
I leaned past him and picked up a gun that was discarded on the floor, before moving round and checking the other body. No gun to be found. Tracing my way back from the direction the car had been travelling in, I found the gun still gripped in a bodyless hand. Grimacing, I picked up both the gun, and the mangled hand before depositing them in my car. No point making things too easy for the police.
As a siren wailed nearby, I made my goodbyes to Cameron, leaving him to see Maeve and Benny to the hospital and to deal with the aftermath of the police.
Stopping to scoop up Katie’s smashed phone, I got back into my car, my mood black with rage.
As I ran a finger over the smashed glass of the phone screen, I narrowed my eyes.
I had to find the fucker before he hurt my girl.
His agent had to be the key.
By the time I reached the warehouse where Tommy’s male victim was still slowly dissolving, my blood ran cold with fury.
I didn’t bother with a mask as I stormed into the room.
Chris was going to die.
The agent sat on a chair in the centre of the room, Ewen and Logan at a table to the side, playing cards as they waited for me. I’d already filled them in on Maeve’s condition and Katie’s disappearance to calm them after they heard about the accident.
‘I’d apologise for the delay, but seeing as your pet rockstar was the reason for it, I’ll not bother,’ I said as I pulled a chair across the space, sending a loud scraping noise vibrating through the space. I set it down a few feet in front of him. Pulling out my knife, I toyed with it, watching as Chris’s eyes followed it in my fingers.
‘Listen, mate, I didn’t do anything.’
‘You knew.’
‘Knew what?’ Chris’s voice was high and strained, the words distorted with fear.
‘Knew that Tommy was killing women.’
Chris spluttered and shoot his head. ‘No. No, I didn’t.’
‘You did. You knew and you let him keep doing it. And worse, you helped him cover it up.’
‘I didn’t--‘ Chris’s words cut off as I flicked out the knife and stabbed it down into his leg just above his kneecap. His scream didn’t affect me. I was numb to anything but finding my girl.
Blood seeped around the wound, staining his cream chinos as he panted, his arms pulling against the restraints which held him securely to his chair.
‘Don’t lie to me. You jumped up piece of shit.’
Taking out my lighter, I held it up to the blade of my knife, watching at the metal blackened. Tears washed down Chris’s face as he watched me, his chest rising in panic the longer I let the flame dance over it. Leaning forward, I ripped open his trousers from the small hole I’d made, exposing his wound. The scream he let out when I pressed the hot knife to the gash was toe-curlingly visceral.
‘Stop,’ he whimpered, ‘please stop.’
‘How many times do you think I could stab you and then cauterise it with my knife before you died? It doesn’t heal the wound, it just stops you bleeding out too quickly. Prolongs the torture.’
‘What do you want?’
‘Tell me the truth. You knew about Tommy, didn’t you?’
When he hesitated, I lifted the knife back up in the air.
‘Okay! I knew. I helped him. I had to. The band is funded by some bad fuckers from abroad, and if the money stopped coming in, they’d have me dead. I couldn’t let Tommy fuck it up.’
‘So you let him just kill women for money?’
‘I didn’t let him do anything. I just cleaned up his messes. I tried to reason with him.’
