AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Handling this part of the business, having to deal with irresponsible men like Burns, is not how I had hoped to spend my day.
“Please, don’t take my house. It’s all I have left,” he cries as the snot in his nose falls toward his top lip.
My face scrunches in disgust. “Fix yourself up, man. You’re not a child. As for your house, you put it up as collateral. You can't act like this now that the time to collect it is up and you have no money to give to us.”
I turn to him with one last piece of advice, although I know that he won’t be changing any time soon. People like him, so given to addictions, do not change.
“You’ve never had any luck with gambling. Give it up before you lose something even more important.”
His face turns red with anger and I sigh.Just as I expected.
I turn to leave when I hear his heavyset footsteps and his shout in anger. I whirl around just in time to avoid getting stabbed with the knife in his hand. My suit is not so lucky.
My jaw tenses in anger. So much for ending this peacefully.
My men, all properly suited up, exchange glances in disbelief at Burns’ move; they know for sure that he has just signed his death warrant.
Gabriel, my most loyal man, reaches for the gun perfectly tucked in his pants, but he catches my eyes and I signal to him to stand down.
I effortlessly weave around a couple of Burns’ feeble attacks, wondering what exactly gave him the balls to act so carelessly. What we he thinking?
With a precise movement, I seize his hand in mid-air and twist so hard that he wails out in pain.
The sound of his bone cracking at my twist is quite alarming, so much so that Sam, the newbie, drops his jaw in shock.
My leg shoots out as I land a kick to Burns' knee. The satisfying crunch as he falls to the ground is better than anything I’ve heard in a while.
He falls, eyes wide with fear and mouth open as he screams in pain. I don’t let him plead with me or get up before I land another kick on his protruding stomach.
He coughs, folding into himself. “Oh God…”
“Perhaps you should have asked for his help to rid you of this habit.” I grab him by the collar and drill a couple of more punches into his face. My hits are so heavy that with each strike, blood from his bleeding nose and mouth splashes on my face.
I hate doing this, but he has left me with no choice. I'm almost losing control. The more I throw those blows, the more I see flashes of my first time in a fight cage. Even now, I can hear the cheering of gamblers outside the cage and smell the sweat of my opponent.
Because of this idiot, memories that I'd kept buried for a long time are now resurfacing, fueling my fury.
He can feel my wrath; they all can. The heat of my anger is burning hot. I loathe irresponsible people, especially those addicted to a bad habit.
“You had the chance to make things right, but you chose to fight, is that it?” I roar, lifting him up like a water rat. I shake him and fling him toward a wall, against which he rams his back and falls to the ground, groaning and wheezing.
I see the fear in his eyes as I walk toward him like the devil himself coming for his soul. He squirms, pulling himself to the wall so he can rest his back.
I halt before him, savoring the terror in his gaze. He lays there, helpless and at my mercy.
“No, please. Don’t hurt me. I’ll do whatever you want,” he begs amid coughs, holding on to his broken wrist.
“I believe it’s a little too late for that, Burns.” I feel anger charging up within me, clouding my judgments. He had reopened my wounds, forcing me to relive a memory that had plagued me for years.
“You're so tough, aren't you, Burns?”
I take off my suit jacket and fold my sleeves up to my elbow before standing over him. A punch straight to his nose causes another childlike squeal as he tries to bring his hand up to protect himself.
“Get up,” I say to him. “You wanna fight, don't you?”
He shakes his head, but I ignore his fear.
“You're a gangster, aren't you? Get up and fight!” I bark, and he sluggishly attempts to rise to his feet.
