Page 102 of Brutal Truths

When the chopper lands fifteen minutes later, I stay back long enough to watch them hurry Rurik inside before I follow. No need to rush this. I’ve worked through every possible outcome, and only one gets me what I want.

Small hospital means bare bones. No real security.

Lane’s done his part by prepping my team so there’s no confusion when I walk in. Even Jen knows what’s coming.

I head through the back like I belong, keeping my pace steady and my focus forward.

“You can’t be back here.” Dr. Miller steps directly in front of me.

I keep moving, walking right through him.

Rurik’s stretched out on the table, being prepped for surgery but still conscious. Sweat beads along his temple, his breathing uneven. Both signs he’s in a lot of pain, lost more than his share of blood, and likely in shock. Good.

When his eyes meet mine, there’s no fear. Just that same cold, twisted confidence that he’s still running the show.

Seeing him so cocksure sends my temper to a new level.

“Everyone out!”

“Sir—”

I lift my gun and level it at his face.

Dr. Miller’s eyes flare wide. “Don’t do this.”

“Out,” I order, every ounce of my patience gone. “Now.”

Jen steps in front of him, putting herself between us, doing her best to defuse this before it escalates. “I hope you know what you’re doing. Please think long and hard before you do anything stupid.”

I just stand there.

Her eyes stay locked on mine, searching, pleading, trying to pull me back from whatever line she thinks I’m about to cross.

I’m unwilling to give her my word. I can’t. Not when I don’t know how far this will go.

She places her hand against Dr. Miller’s chest and urges him to move.

“You have ten minutes, Aiden. Ten. That’s all. And whatever you do, don’t remove that blade. He’ll bleed out before he can answer you.” Her next words, surprise me, telling me she’s not completely against me doing this. “But don’t be afraid to bump it. That should be a great incentive to talk. Just be prepared. He might throw up again. Or piss himself more if he has any left in him.”

“I’m calling the police!” Dr. Miller shouts as he backs out of the room.

Jen moves fast and snatches his phone from his hand before he can follow through.

“No, you’re not. None of you.” She points at the other nurses who scattered the second I pulled the gun. “If he wanted him dead, he would’ve done that already. He needs answers. Ten minutes.”

The door swings shut behind them, cutting off the noises and leaving me alone with my thoughts and Rurik.

Now that we are alone, I turn to face him. “Start talking.”

“Fuck you!”

I don’t give him time to settle into that defiance. Three years inside the Irish mob has taught me a lot. Most of it ugly, all of it useful on how to handle men like him.

My fingers close around his exposed pinky toe on his good leg; I don’t hesitate. I twist. Hard. Down and to the side until it snaps.

Rurik shrieks in pain, his body straining against the restraints, tears spilling down his cheeks as his leg jerks backward, but goes nowhere. “You’re a dead man!”

A low, unfamiliar cynical laugh rumbles out of me. “Talk.”