week and wanted him to realize how much she appreciated it.
“He’s all yours, D.J. There’ll be no shaggin’ until I get cleaned up.” She stood from the ground and dusted herself off. “Besides, I wanted to check on someone.”
Payne raised his eyebrows. “Did you make a friend in prison? How cute!”
She smiled again, despite her sore jaw. “I think his name’s Nathan, but that’s all I really know. He doesn’t talk too much because of all the torture.”
“Big guy, lots of scars? He was in the Devil’s Box before me. Hakeem said he’d left him in the device for several weeks. Unfortunately, I have no idea who he is, though.”
“I do,” interjected Sanchez, who’d been listening to their reunion. “I’m from San Diego, so I should know who he is.”
All three turned toward him, looking for information.
“His name’s Nate Barker, and he plays for the Chargers. According to ESPN, he’s been missing for a few months now, simply disappeared from his house one night.”
“Are you sure?” Payne asked. It seemed risky for the Posse to kidnap someone who was famous. “Why would they grab a high-profile guy like that?”
Sanchez offered an explanation. “If I remember correctly, he’s the player that hurt Levon’s knee. Snapped it like a twig up in Buffalo.”
Payne glanced at Barker and studied his haggard appearance. He certainly had the height to be a football player, even though it was painfully obvious that he’d lost a lot of weight during the past several weeks. “This was all done for revenge? My God, what a sick bastard Levon turned out to be! I would’ve never guessed it before all of—”
“Sirs!” Shell shouted urgently. He was on his knees near Greene’s body, and the look on his face suggested that something was wrong. “Get over here, sirs!”
Payne, Jones, and Sanchez dashed forward while Ariane chose to stay behind.
“It’s Greene,” Shell said. “He’s still alive. He was wearing a vest under his cloak.”
“Are you serious?” Payne sank to the ground next to Shell and looked into Greene’s eyes. They were open and, considering his current condition, fairly active. “Levon, can you hear me?”
Greene nodded his head slightly, as blood gushed from the wounds in his neck and shoulders. “You got me, Payne. You got me good.”
“I didn’t get you, Levon. You got yourself. I can’t believe you did all this shit for revenge.”
Greene closed his eyes to escape the agony but managed to turn his lips into a large smile. “No regrets,” he groaned. “I got no regrets.”
Payne was ready to lecture him further when he suddenly sensed a large presence hovering behind him. Looking up, he was surprised to see the battered body of Nate Barker.
“Levon,” the lineman croaked. His throat was dry and cracked from severe dehydration.
Greene reopened his eyes and stared into the face of his enemy.
Barker leaned closer, letting Greene see his face. “That play,” he said. “That play where you got hurt? I didn’t try to hurt you. I swear, I didn’t.”
But Greene wouldn’t accept it. He closed his eyes and shook his head in denial.
It wasn’t something that he’d ever believe.
“Honestly,” Barker continued. “I’ve never hurt anyone on purpose in my entire life. I swear to God, I haven’t.” Then suddenly, without warning, he placed his foot on Greene’s left knee and anchored it with his body weight. “That is, until now!”
With all of his remaining strength, Barker grabbed Greene’s lower leg and pulled it upward, tugging and yanking on the limb until the weakened joint literally exploded from the excess stress. The loud popping of tendons and cartilage was quickly accented by Greene’s screams of pain, which sent shivers down the spines of everyone in the area.
But Barker was far from done. With a devious grin on his face, he lifted his foot off of Greene’s knee and slammed it into the middle of Greene’s throat. He’d been put through so much over the past several weeks that there was no way he was going to stop. No fucking way.
Not until his revenge was complete. Not until he felt vindicated for his pain.
And no one in the area had any desire to stop him.
EPILOGUE
Saturday, July 17th
Harper White Medical Center
New Orleans, Louisiana
THE door was closed and the room was dark, but that didn’t stop Payne and Jones from entering. They’d broken so many laws in the past few weeks that they weren’t about to let visiting hours—or the heavyset nurse at the front desk—stand in their way.
Not with something as important as this to