Prisoner (Criminals & Captives #1)(73)

“You owe us more than money,” I grit out. I grab his hair and jerk his head, jerk his arm.

He gasps in pain. Maybe I’m breaking something, but I can’t let off, because deep down I think if I let off, he could hurt me.

How f*cked up is that? I’m twice as big as him, and I have my guys here, but the governor still seems like a threat.

Stone comes up and drives a fist into the man’s jaw with a deafening thwack and force that I feel clear through my body. Yeah, I was the governor’s favorite, but he screwed every single one of us in every sense of the word.

Stone pulls off the man’s cap. “I said the cap comes off!” He wraps it around his knuckles and brings his fist down on the man’s ear, which blooms with blood.

I jerk the governor’s head up. “Your ass is ours now, and we’re not gonna make it nice.”

Stone makes the call, getting our guys in here, and then he puts aside his gun and pulls out a blade.

“Grayson,” the governor says, craning his head, looking up at me like we’re friends, the look he used to give me.

Affection.

This sick feeling comes over me, remembering all those times when I was helpless under him, and he’d give me this look of affection. The worst thing is that I know he really did feel some twisted affection. “Grayson.”

“Shut up.” I jerk his arm, make it hurt. “You don’t get to say my name.”

The rest of the guys have arrived and crowd around the bedroom, all scars and leather and hard edges, making the furniture look clean and toylike. They’ve got guns, blades. We all want a crack at him.

My heart pounds as Abby slips in next to Nate. Cruz flops onto the couch, one leg over the armrest. Calder pulls a vase off a podium in the corner and hurls it across the room.

“Looks like everyone’s here,” I say. “What are we in the mood for, Governor?”

This terrible hush comes over the room.

The governor’s shaking his head. “No, no.”

Yeah, he remembers.

That’s something he’d ask me and the other boys. What are we in the mood for, Grayson? What are we in the mood for, Stone? Like we had some kind of choice.

I tighten my grip on his hair and arm, twisting harder. “What are we in the mood for? What? Answer!”

“I have a wife,” he pants. “A daughter.”

I catch the glint of metal from the corner of my eye. Nate flashes a scalpel and advances. “Are you trying to humanize yourself? Are you honestly trying to humanize yourself to us after what you did to us?” he asks.

“Her name is Alana.”

Nate sighs and looks at the ceiling.

I wince. Nobody brings out Nate’s dark side like the governor. And he’s just done it. Things could get bloody. “Calder, hold open his mouth,” Nate says. “I need to cut out this man’s tongue.”

The governor’s whipping his head back and forth, best he can, anyway, being that I’m gripping his hair.

Calder shoves his nine into his waistband and grabs the guy’s face, readying to force his mouth open.

The governor pleads, “It wasn’t me. Wasn’t me running that operation.”

Anger surges through me. “You think we’re stupid?”

“It’s bigger than me. They have other boys,” the governor mumbles. “Right now…”

I feel sick. It can’t be true. But I have a bad feeling it’s true. Something about the way he says it. I jerk him by the hair. “Answer me. You think we’re stupid?”

“No. I think you care. I can help you find them,” the governor pants. “I didn’t want it to keep going—I swear it. I have a contact. William Fossey…”

My gut wrenches. He says it like we should know that name. I look around. Stone looks wary, but he might just believe it too.

“Federal Judge William Fossey?” Abby says.

“Under the pictures.” Dorman points.

Nate is at one of the bookcases, picking up pictures in shiny frames. “What are you talking about?”

“In the drawer under there. Me and the judge. There’s one…look at the backgrounds…”

Nate jerks open the drawer and roots around. Then he lifts something out. “Shit,” he says.

“What?” I ask.

Nate brings a photo to Stone, who takes a look and swears.

“Where?” Nate asks the governor. “The other boys are where?” So Nate believes him too.

“Let me go, and I’ll help you!”

Nate tosses the framed photo, stalks to the bed, and shoves a blade deep into the governor’s thigh with a viciousness I haven’t seen in him in years. Dorman cries out in pain.

Here it goes. Nate’s gone dark.

“Where?” Nate asks calmly.

“Where are they?” I growl, jerking him hard. “You tell us now.”

“I don’t know!” he gasps. “I got orders. It wasn’t all me. You can use me to find them. I’ll help you…I can help you…please!”

I exchange glances with Stone. Yeah, we both know when a guy’s given us everything he’s got.

“Take off his pants,” Stone says to somebody. “Let’s do this.”

“Grayson,” he begs. “Please, Grayson…” I catch that hint of affection again, and this hot rage surges up in me and I lose it, and all I can do is hit him again and again, knuckles cracking bone. I can’t stop myself; it’s like I won’t survive if I don’t feel him breaking apart under my fists.