Page 101 of Where Angels Fall

“Sit,” I mutter, gesturing to the couch next to his wife with my gun. When he doesn’t move, I click the safety off, the sound amplified in the quiet space. “I said, sit. If I need to ask again, your wife’s pretty head will become... less pretty.”

That pulls another shrill scream from his wife, and I fight the urge to plug my ears with my fingers. What a horrible fucking sound.

But Howard growls, finally moving to sit down, muttering, “What is it with people using leverage that I simply don’t give a fuck about.”

I don’t know what he means, but it makes me furious all the same.

I stare them both down, standing in front of them with fear, rage, and depravity burning through my veins. It’s taking more willpower than I thought I had to not shoot them here and now. I don’t know exactly what they’ve done to my beautiful girl, but I know it’s not good. And they will die. Just after I get my hands back on her. After I know she’s okay.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” I drawl, pacing in front of them to dispel the energy that’s coursing through me. “Zeke, your business partner, has my ang... Your daughter. Maddison.”

I watch their expressions. Evelyn gasps, but Howard... Oh, Howard’s face twists into irritation. He already knows.

“Oh,” I run my tongue over my teeth, my top lip curling in disgust. “You know.”

My boots leave faint red marks on the polished floor as I stop my pacing and turn to him. He looks down at the stains of blood for half a second before looking back up.

“This is about her?” He asks, his fists balling on top of his knees as his face twists into something disgusting. “All of this because of that wretched fucking whore? She deserves every second of pain he gives her, the little ungrateful fuck. I gave her everything, and she ruins it in two fucking seconds. All the money. All the power. Gone, because she is a stupid fucking girl.”

I’m vibrating. Shaking. Red flashes in my vision. Every muscle in my body screams at my finger to just press the trigger. I need to wait. For her.

“The money? All of the money? Howard what are you talking about?” Evelyn asks, her tone hitched with concern. Concern for the fucking money.

Slowly, so slowly, my head turns in her direction. A sickening churn hollows inside me. My eyes bore into hers, head pounding with the words she just said. “Your daughter is currently tied to a chair, in an underground cell, bleeding out. She’s being tortured! hurt!” each word comes out clipped. “He’s fucking hurting her!” I scream, my voice coming out raw and ragged, echoing in the silent room.

They both flinch at my voice this time, and it brings momentary satisfaction. Because I know by the end of this, they’ll be doing more than flinching.

I turn back to Howard.

“Tell me where she is,” I demand, raising my gun back on him.

He leans back slightly against the couch, an ankle resting on the opposite knee like this is a board meeting and not a man with a gun aimed between his eyes. Like I didn’t just paint his marble with the blood of his employees.

“I don’t know,” he says finally, the words coming out flat and uncaring.

“You don’t know?” I repeat slowly.

He leans forward slightly, keeping his eyes steady on mine. “With any luck... she’s already dead.”

Everything zeroes in on those three words. She’s already dead. My finger presses down, the gunshot ricocheting a deafening sound. Howard cries out as a bullet lodges itself into his kneecap, crimson blood flowing down his leg and soaking his suit pants.

Evelyn jumps up, screaming into her hands.

“I said, sit down!” I scream at her, spit flying from my mouth as my sanity frays at the edges.

Her eyes widen and she falls back on the lounge, sobbing and hysterical. Part of me wants to lodge a bullet in her skull just to get her to shut the fuck up. Howard clutches his knee, as if it might help him, his face already going pale.

“I said, where is she?” My voice is shaking; the thought of my angel dead in that concrete hell is pulling me undone.

“I told you I don’t know,” he grits through the pain, and I almost believe him. “I received a call,” he says, irritation bleeding into his tone. “A demand. I declined. That is the extent of my knowledge.”

My jaw tightens so hard it cracks.

“You declined,” I echo, my voice dangerously soft.

Evelyn lets out a small, frantic sound. “Howard...”

He cuts her off with a look.