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I open the door to the house, my footsteps echoing on terracotta tiles. Staged, nondescript furniture presents this place as unworthy of notice on the inside as it is on the outside. Down the hall, I come across a locked door. I try the other keys I have until the lock clicks. The door swings inward. Unlike the front rooms where light filters in, this room is almost completely dark. Dense shadows form menacing shapes. I swallow and feel around the wall for a light switch. My fingers slide across a smooth texture. After exerting slight pressure, a click breaks the silence, and an overhead light flickers before brightening and holding steady.
Now I understand Takeshi’s previous comment about this place having what we’ll need. Medical equipment lines the walls, a metal table with straps dangling to the sides sits in the middle of the room over a drain, a deep sink is off to the side, and a retractable hose hangs from the ceiling. More equipment I can’t identify and locked cabinets occupy the space. Although everything has a useful purpose, the sterility leaves me with an ominous feeling.
How often have Shinji and Takeshi used this place? Would knowing change anything for me?
Our hostage stumbles to his knees beside me while Shinji follows behind. “Sorry for the delay. He wasn’t very cooperative.”
“Fuck you, asshole.” The man rights himself, then spits toward Shinji. His bloody saliva lands beside Shinji’s foot and he glares defiantly before attempting to run free.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get started.” Shinji intercepts Tomasso’s henchman before he reaches the door and drags him toward the table.
Both men grunt as Shinji overpowers the other man to strap him onto the table. Once secured, Shinji steps back to admire his hostage. “Now, because I’m a reasonable man, I’ll allow you a choice.”
Our hostage stops fidgeting to stare at Shinji who leans over him, their faces inches apart.
“You canchoosehow long and painful your last moments on earth will be. If you answer my questions without prevaricating, you’ll suffer less.”
“Fuck you, porca puttana! You’re out of your league if you think you can win against the Giamettis. Tomasso will—Oof”
A thud follows Shinji’s punch to his mouth. Blood spatters on the table and the floor.
“The only words I need to hear from you are about what Tomasso knows and what his plans are. Anything else… Well, you already know.” Shinji massages his knuckles.
“Did Tomasso know I would be at the supplier’s spot, today?” I ask what’s been burning in my head since Evan dipped from his illegal arms shop.
The man, whose name remains unknown, has never shown up in our surveillance. Despite his anonymity, I don’t want to know who he is. Asking would be a waste of time and afford him a level of respect he doesn’t deserve.
He glances at me with a sneer before turning back to Shinji.
I shake my head, anticipating what’s coming next.
Shinji slams his fist on the man’s dick. He writhes on the table, but the straps hinder his ability to curl himself into a fetal position and protect his charms from more abuse.
“I will not tolerate disrespect to my woman. Answer the fucking question.”
The man breathes through his nostrils, but his attempt to stifle the pain fails when a groan escapes, then another before he collects himself.
Shinji raises his fist, prompting the man to blurt, “Only me.”
“Bullshit,” I say.
Shinji shrugs and slams the hostage’s nuts a second time.
“Bi—son of a bitch!” He breathes through the pain while Shinji and I patiently wait for him to choose the truth. “I swear, I’m not lying. Evan mentioned Shinji had a Black woman with him when he called to tell me about Nakashima. He’s one of Katsuo’s closest men, so I figured the woman Evan referenced was the one with the huge bounty on her head. I kept the knowledge to myself because there was no way I’d pass up that kind of money.”
“How much are we talking?” Shinji holds his hand out for the keys he gave me earlier. Once he has them in hand, he wanders over to a locked cabinet.
“Two mil.”
The air freezes in my lungs while dread swamps my body. That kind of bounty is unheard of. Even with the number of Tomasso’s men I’ve killed, two million dollars is excessive. Not even a witness under protective custody racks up this kind of attention.
Shinji casts a glance full of admiration my way, so I school my features, hiding the panic inside. There’s only one reason Tomasso would put such a high price on my head, and this isn’t how I want Shinji to discover the other secret I’m keeping.
How I don’t choke on everything I’m hiding from my men is a miracle.
Shinji returns with a small electronic device and a bag of cotton swabs under his arm. Poking out from the gadget are wires attached to clamps. He puts the machine on the table by our hostage’s feet, then rips the package of swabs open.
I follow his movements as he moistens the cotton at the sink. Before returning, he pulls a drawer under the sink and extracts a scalpel. I glance around the room again. “Why does this place look more like an emergency room than a torture chamber?”
