Page 90 of Smitty

Sometimes that meant throwing punches. Sometimes that meant taking unexpected risks. And sometimes, it meant listening to the newest patched-in brother when he threw out an idea that just might lead us to the missing piece of the puzzle.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I let out a breath and said, “I’m not making any promises, but I’ll give it a go.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

And just like that, the room emptied with a renewed sense of purpose.

They all followed me out of the room and down the hall to the back door. My chest tightened with nerves as I made my way out to the garage. I’d only been to one of Grim’s rooms to clean up after he’d had one of his sessions. I’d never been in one when his mark was still breathing, so I was feeling a little apprehensive as I made my way up to the door.

Before I stepped inside, Shep stepped over to me and handed me a photograph of Raymond as he said, “Just take your time. We just need to know if Raymond is a Coyote. Anything else you can get out of him will be a bonus.”

“How will I know if he’s lying?”

“Don’t give him any reason to,” Prez answered. “You gotta make him believe you aren’t a threat… You’re there to help him out.”

“Okay.” I slipped off my cut and handed it to Creed. “I think I’ve got it.”

Fuck me.

I didn’t want to do this.

I’d never interrogated anyone before, but I’d come up with the fucking idea, and the guys were counting on me to get answers. I couldn’t let them down, not after everything they’d done for me. I rolled my shoulders and cleared my throat as I reached for the doorknob and tried to steady my thoughts.

When I stepped into the room, the heat was so overwhelming I could barely breathe, and the smell wasn’t helping anything. Damn, the prospects needed to get in here and do another spray-down. The door clicked behind me, and Benson didn’t move.

He was slumped over in the chair, and his hair, chest, and pants were soaked with sweat. His wrists were bruised and bleeding from the long night of trying to keep himself upright, and I’m pretty sure the kid pissed his pants.

I couldn’t blame him.

If I’d been chained up in the room with Grim for even five minutes, I would’ve pissed myself, too. And that wouldn’t have been the worst of it. The guy was out cold, so I walked over and filled a bucket with water. I took it over to Benson and poured it over his head. He woke with a start and gasped, “Aw, shit!”

“Welcome back.” I took the empty bucket and lowered it onto the counter, then grabbed a chair and pulled it over in front of him. As I sat down, I winced and said, “Damn, man… It looks like you had a rough morning.”

“You think?”

“He use the crowbar or the bat?”

“Crowbar.”

“Ah, that’s rough.” I grimaced. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve seen plenty who’ve had it a lot worse.”

“No, it doesn’t make me feel any better.” His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What do you want anyway?”

“I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t want your help… I just wanna get the hell outta here.”

Tears started to trickle down his round cheeks, and I actually started to feel sorry for the guy. And this was the reason I would never be an enforcer, and honestly, I was good with that. “I know. I know, and I’m working on that.”

“And how you gonna do that?”

“Well, that depends a lot on you.” I kept my voice low and steady. “I’ve been talking to ‘em, and if you play your cards right, you just might end up on the better side of all this.”

“What does that even mean?”

“The men who brought you here…” I motioned my head toward the door. “They aren’t bad men. They don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could’ve fooled the hell out of me,” he scoffed. “I already told you that dude came after me with a crowbar, and he sure as hell wasn’t looking to change my flat tire.”