I shook my head. “Anyway, what else do you know? What type of tracking, what does this Rose character look like, and what do you know about the power struggles in the underworld?”

“She–AH!” His body jumped at Reaper stomping on his injured leg. “She’s just some kid! I don’t know! Surveillance! I don’t know her or what Jason is even talking about! I wasn’t even supposed to be there that early...” He clutched his leg and tears streamed down his face. I didn’t blame him; it looked painful.

We learned that Chris was a higher-level runner hired by James himself and was given to us by one of our rats via Reaper's information extraction methods. Naturally, we nabbed him and brought him with us. Reaper loved a good kidnapping before torture and killing, and I’d never seen him happier.

I nodded at Reaper. He took my direction and stabbed the other leg. Every time he stabbed, it was like ripping a wet pair of jeans in one go–a thick crunch almost. He screamed–again–and begged us to stop. “We stop when you offer up more information,” I said, leaning over to inspect the stab site.

“Or if you die,” Reaper laughed.

“I don’t know! Please.” The low, pitiful begging wouldn’t work.

This session had gone on for too long, and I was pretty sure he said all he really knew. We’d never know and all I knew was that I wanted to lay in bed and sleep for ten hours. I unholstered by gun from my waistband and pointed it at his head as Reaper looked at me like a proud father. “I’m tired. Now, what the fuck aren’t you telling me?”

His hands went up in that typical defensive position. “That’s all! I’ve given you a play-by-play of my entire time there and anything I heard from Jason and his girlfriend.”

“What is his girlfriend’s name?”

“She’s called Rabbit! I don’t know her name!” His tears freely flowed from his eyes, mixing with the blood dripping from his facial injuries. It was sort of pathetic, really.

“What. Else.” I positioned myself to press the muzzle to his forehead. The pad of my finger came to rest on the trigger, ready to send this idiot to his maker. I preferred when Reaper did the killing, but I was sick and fucking tired of not getting what I wanted to move up in the ranks under my grandfather. The game felt changed and I needed to prove myself.

And take my anger out on someone that wouldn’t land me in handcuffs.

“Nothing,” he sobbed. “I swear to you. Please I–” BANG!

My ears rang for a few seconds. I noted to start bringing some earplugs with me in case I felt like getting festive. Saving your hearing was worth it.