“Yeah.” Logan pushed him onto his face and sat on his back, hearing the air whoosh from the other man’s lungs beneath him. He kept his left hand clamped around the back of his neck and used the other to squeeze the painful bridge of his nose between finger and thumb.
“Okay, okay!” Flick conceded. “I’ll tell you, but no cops.”
“Whatever!” Logan shook his head to clear his watering eyes. He slapped him on the back of the head again and heard him grunt as his forehead hit the floor. “You’re done bargaining.”
“Your wife has something my boss wants,” Flick rasped, anticipating more pain as Logan paused in the process of lifting his hand for another slap. “Something he needs.”
“A box,” replied Logan, sounding bored. “A box with papers in it. Yeah. You’re too late. The cops have it.”
Logan h
