Clean Kill (Bloodline Book 1) by Adam Nicholls

Author:Adam Nicholls [Nicholls, Adam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Papyrus Publishing
Published: 2021-01-27T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

The punch hit him like a brick. His mind went foggy and weak. He’d taken a punch before, even laughed one off on some of those occasions, but it always had a way of stinging after the twentieth hit.

“That hurt?” Matthews said through gritted teeth, kneeling in front of him with a huge, shit-eating grin. “Charlie wants you alive, you know. Personally, I think that’s a little too generous, so I suppose we can take him on a technicality. What do you think, Canavan?”

“Oh, I agree.” Canavan’s voice came from behind Greg.

How long had he been there?

“See, he didn’t say a damn thing about whether he wants you slapped around a little. Hell, he might even appreciate the extra effort.”

Although he’d not long been conscious, Greg was getting sleepy. They’d done all sorts of things to him so far: dragged him through the dirt, taken an electric stun gun to his balls, even removed three of his toenails. And now he was tied to one of Marcy’s dining room chairs. On the bright side, she wouldn’t complain about the bloodstains.

“Bet you’re wondering where your little friend is, huh?” Canavan said.

“No.” Blood and spit oozed from his mouth as he spoke, and it was a lie on some level. He had a rough idea where Blake might have gone.

Matthews rolled up his sleeves. “He took off as soon as we told him the truth about you. About how you beat on his old man and forced him to retire.”

“He doesn’t believe you,” Greg said. “You’re a piece of—”

Matthews’s fist rocketed against his face, drawing blood.

“You were saying?” They both laughed at him, safe and out of reach.

“Where’s the boy?” Greg spat.

They laughed again. They reminded him of a couple of teenagers sharing a joke, and he was the brunt of it. An uneasy feeling, whether there was blood on his brow or not.

“You’re ballsy, I’ll give you that.” Matthews stepped back and admired his handiwork. “Listen, forget about the boy. He’s halfway into the city by now, probably seeing that girlfriend of his. We’ll take care of him from there, so don’t worry.”

“That’s exactly where he’s going,” Canavan said. “I let him go, and the moron told me that’s where he’d be headed. Shame—I was looking forward to the chase.”

They laughed again.

Greg’s mouth opened as if to speak, but more blood dripped onto the floor. He wasn’t sure why it happened, but he began to laugh.

Matthews crooked an eyebrow. “What? You think this is funny?”

“I—I do.” He couldn’t keep the hysteria at bay. “You only had one chance to kill him, and you even fucked that up, you pussies.” And then he spat in Matthews’s face. Blood refilled his mouth in an instant.

Canavan came out from behind Greg.

Matthews stood up, and they both towered over him. “How long do we have?”

“Long enough,” Matthews said. “Want to cut him a little?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Canavan said, taking the knife from his partner and wiping it against Greg’s trouser leg. “Don’t mind if I do,” he repeated, slower this time.

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