“So, ye’re telling me,” I point a knife at him, “that ye thought I could be yer new business partner. That me, my clan, could come work for ye?”
“Yes.” He speaks in slow, labored pants. “The rookie cop—he was an accident. Shouldn’t have died. He had a family full of cops—all crooked. Then I searched your background. You have a big clan, Leith. Consider the opportunity.”
“Bullshite. Ye’re not a ‘shake a man’s hand’ type of pal. Ye’re a daftie, wee bawbag. Ye fecked over Phelps! Wit was Jiang accusing me of? That shite has yer name written all over it!”
“Phelps was . . . cheating me, Le-Leith.” His eyes can hardly stay open. “Jiang was a little anxious. Listen, he was a good enough friend. Nevertheless—”
I wave a knife before his nose. “Get to the point!”
Yates gulps. “Okay! Phelps was only a benefactor. Jiang and I did everything. Phelps demanded the same piece of the fucking pie, Leith.”
“Eh, I dinna give a feck ‘bout yer schemin’ with the two of ‘em. Tell me why Jiang came after me.”
“You saw that guy, Leith. He was high-strung.” Yates takes on a tone like we’re auld mates. “A little birdy—me, if you’re not catching my drift—dropped him a short line. Let him think that you were on to him. Although I said Jiang was a good guy, he was also a liability. Thank you for that favor.”
I nod, aware that he’s ready to shove the feckin’ banana in the tailpipe. So, Yates thinks I’m a nugget? That I was a pawn on a chessboard—one he can move.
“See,” he smiles weakly, “the two of us work well together. You helped me get rid of a nervous nut who could have blown a multi-billion-dollar operation. I got your Audi back for you. I gave you money. That’s just the start of two geniuses like us rubbing elbows. Now that’s settled, we can continue—”
“Yer scheme through Infinity Corp?” I lift a brow. “While everyone has evidence pointed at them. Everyone but ye.”
“No.” His tongue dips out over the dried blood from his lips. Irritation flashes in his eyes, but the lad’s smart enough to not sing an auld tune. Little sarcastic fecker. “Leith, I already said, Jiang and I were not above implication. Remember, Phelps was the only one with a billion degrees of separation. Jiang was a good guy. Had it not been for his paranoia, we’d be the three musketeers. Me, you, Jiang. But the two of us, along with your brothers—”
Clasping his hair, I lift him until he opens his eyes. “Look at me, bitch. Ye ran my wife off the road, and then ye tried to murder her and my daughter!”
“I just told Phelps to scare her,” he blubbers. “She wasn’t hurt. And th-they were-weren’t home. I was angry.”
“Aye. I did yer dirty work gettin’ rid of yer friends. Ye threatened my wife and bairn. I’m angry.”
I’m about to toss his spirit into the depths of Hell for another round and resurrect him with adrenaline again when I hear a crunch. I’d been so focused on Yates. I look up.
Camdyn takes another bite of his apple, regarding us with slight interest. My brathair tosses me a brand-new bottle of pain reliever then addresses Yates. “Heard you had an IQ that’s off the charts.”
“Please help,” Yates groans.
“That’s my aim. I help people.” My brathair takes another bite of apple. “For another, eh, three days of life, you tell me what dangerous compound is in Apple se—”
“Amygdalin,” Yates shouts, spit and blood flying from his lips. “Apple seeds degrade into hydrogen cyanide.”
Camdyn sighs. “Damn, that’s correct.”
I’m washing down the handful of pills while Camdyn offers to play another game with my victim.
“So, geek, the next step is a history lesson,” my brathair says. “Scottish history, namely torture devices. I’ll up the fucking ante. This one is for a month. How would you like to live another thirty days?”
“Please,” Yates groans.
“Name the device used in my home country centuries ago. A victim’s leg was placed in this steel contraption. Wood was hammered between the gadget and the asshole’s leg, breaking and crushing bones. Name that device for your life, geek. Say the wrong word, and I’ll kill ya myself.”
“Let’s keep going.” Camdyn rubs his hands together.
“Was I—”
“Yes, you were granted thirty more days of torture, my friend.” Camdyn pats Yates’ shoulder. “But three questions are mandatory. Then I’ll weasel Leith into having a