Dominic.
The man was wheezing by the time I turned to my surgical table. He already had a broken arm and two broken legs, still he refused to give me what I wanted.
I was currently in the basement of my house, and as I took my sweet time selecting which blade to go with, I heard him pleading with me.
Turning to him, I tilted my head and asked, “Are you ready to tell me who sent you, Cole?”
“I… I don’t know. Please,” he begged.
Smiling, I finally picked up a long thin knife and walked towards the bastard.
His wrists were tied behind him, with one of them sticking out at an unnatural angle. There was a pool of blood under where he sat, and I watched as it dripped slowly onto the concrete floor.
“Who sent you?” I asked again.
He shook his head violently, sweat and blood rolling down
