Page 29 of Dark Side of the Cloth

“No! No! Wait, I might know where he is,” the man blurted.

Before he could say anything further, he promptly threw up and jerked against the bindings, the visible kneecap twisting at an odd angle as he did so. Dean took a step back to avoid the second round of vile-smelling vomit that would curdle anyone’s stomach. Chunks of he didn’t know what mixed with blood and piss ran towards the small drain in the floor.

Disgusting, and yet so delightful.

Dean sighed and waited for the man to compose himself. “And?”

“And…” Beads of sweat dripped from his brow. Dean could almost hear the gears churning in the piece of shit’s brain. “I was the driver. There were supposed to be two girls, but my brother only managed to get one. We argued when he got back to the car, and he only had the one girl.”

“So what did you do?”

“Like I said, we argued. I suggested we share her because I wanted a good fuck, but that turned into a fistfight. I lost the fight, and I got this nasty scar on my face from that asshole to prove it. He took the car and the girl, and I was left on my ass at the side of the road. I don’t have a fucking clue what exactly he did after that, but knowing my brother, I’m sure it was fucked up.”

The man stopped talking and proceeded to gag, only dry heaves this time, but the retching sound was enough to make Dean want to end his miserable life.

“Trust me, that girl would’ve been better off if I won the fight. I mean, I like shit rough, and her little asshole would’ve gotten an education. You know what I mean? But she’d still be alive. My brother—he’s just warped out of his gourd fucked up. He likes to watch shit die, pluck wings off bugs and hang cats…”

“Yeah, I get it.” Dean interrupted the asshole. “So that’s why you stopped speaking because your brother was warped? Take a look around. You’re not exactly a stand-up citizen.”

“Fuck you, man. I’m telling you how it was. My brother was always pushing the limits, and he was going to get us arrested or killed—fuck, probably both. Unlike him, I stopped with the pre-teen girls after that night. It was way more risk than I was up for. I hadn’t even liked the snatch and grab idea, to begin with.”

“Oh no?” Dean rose an eyebrow in question.

“Again fuck you! Any bitch that gets into my car does so willingly.”

“I’m finding this hard to believe, but go on.” Dean waved his hand dismissively.

“My brother tried to talk me into a similar job a couple of years after, and I flat out refused. Said I didn’t want to know anything about it or him anymore and to leave me the fuck alone. I don’t know what happened to the job, and frankly, I didn’t care. I decided to cut all ties and stick to the whores that walk the streets.”

“Easier targets?”

“They’re already looking to put out, cops don’t give a shit, and their families, if they have any, don’t want anything to do with them. They’re the perfect partner for my games, but I never kill them.”

“I wouldn’t call what I walked in on a willing partnership.” Dean’s lip twitched, and his nostrils flared as he reined in the turbulent rage. “Where is your brother?”

“Are you going to kill me even if I tell you?”

Dean paused as if giving his question real consideration.

“Well, if you don’t tell me, I certainly will, and I’ll make sure it’s so painful that you’ll be begging to die for hours,” Dean growled.

The first threads of real fear reflected back at him. Like a fucking light turning on, he could see realization glinting in the man’s eyes. He was no longer the predator. He was the prey. It was like a great white knowing it was the king of the ocean until the killer whale shows up and fucks shit up.

“I don’t know what you want from me, man. I haven’t talked to him in years, but we had an old hunting cabin that’s not on any map. If he’s holed up somewhere, that place would be my only guess.” The man winced as he shifted his weight.

“Give me the address.”

Again with the long pause. Dean was growing tired of the silent act. His glove creaked as he gripped the crowbar tighter in his fist. He wanted this man’s blood so bad he could already see the red running down his body.

“Tell me, or I slit you open and pull out all your insides while you’re still alive. You could survive for hours before you finally die, and believe me, I will make sure you feel every excruciating moment as I play with all your organs.”

Dean pulled the knife on his chest free. It was so sharp and clean it reflected even in the poor lighting.

“Holy fuck, man, you’re a sick SOB. The place is on Pine Ridge Road. It’s due north of here. It’s a no-maintenance, off-the-beaten-path road that will rip the bottom right out of a car if you’re not careful. Take the fifth driveway on your right and then travel for another twenty minutes until you come to a dead end. The driveway was well hidden by the forest on the left. There are no markers, no numbers—it’s just a small gap in the trees and knowing that crazy fucker it’s probably also booby-trapped.” The man shook his head back and forth. “I won’t even go there for fear of stepping on one of the bear traps or getting strung up in a snare. Stupid fuck that he is,” the guy mumbled. “Now that I’ve told you what you want, can you call me a fucking ambulance? I’m going to be sick again.”

The man was pale, and the adrenaline that would have masked the majority of the initial pain would be wearing off by now.

“Not yet. I have one more question.”