Wicked Cravings (The Phoenix Pack #2)(67)
Author: Suzanne Wright

That wolf in the hut—he isn’t just some guy who was roaming too close to our territory, he’s someone who hurt you. Dante won’t have one ounce of mercy in his system, just as I wouldn’t if it was Taryn.

If you care for him, Jaime, respect his wish to do this without you and don’t give him a hard time about it later.”

“Whatfreakingever,” she grumbled.

Sensing that she had backed down, he nodded approvingly. “I hope you meant what you said about not judging him, because there’s no way he’ll let that guy live.” The second Dante stepped into the hut, the lanky wolf’s eyes widened and he began struggling against his bonds. Obviously, then, he knew all about Dante’s reputation as an interrogator. Not many didn’t, which was why the wolf’s struggling wasn’t an uncommon reaction. Although Dante had never gotten any pleasure or satisfaction out of the process, he wondered if this time might be a little different.

He was literally hungering to see the person who dared to hurt Jaime in the same kind of pain that she was going through at his hands. Maybe that was wrong, sick, and even callous, but right then he simply didn’t care. His usual morals were buried beneath the rage that was coursing through him, demanding some form of retribution. He understood now just how hard it had been for Trey to hold back and play the waiting game after those wolves attacked Taryn. Jaime was his and would always come before everything else—even his conscience.

With slow, casual steps, Dante came to stand before the male. Like his enforcers, Dante didn’t recognize him or his scent. He had racked his brain, trying to think of people who might want to hurt him and would think to use Jaime to do it. He had as many enemies as the next person. But an enemy who hated him enough to hurt someone close to him? The only ones who came to mind were Glory and her brothers—which made him think that this male in front of him was linked to them in some way. But this seemed out of character for the brothers. Crazy people tended to do their own dirty work, because they enjoyed it.

Dante’s wolf growled and bucked, wanting freedom so that he could tear apart this male who had hurt Jaime; his struggle to be free was so fierce that Dante’s eyes flashed wolf. The male in front of him struggled harder, pulling against the rope that bound both of his wrists to the arms of the chair.

Dante’s wolf liked that the male’s fear was practically pulsing in the air, relished the scent of it.

“Name?” The male didn’t answer, and Dante hadn’t expected him to. Dominant wolf or not, he would be intimidated by the sight of Dante and the enforcers, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t take a fair bit of pressure before the wolf would break. “Name.” It was a demand this time, not a question.

Sweat was beading the captive’s forehead and greasing his hair. “Fuck you.”

“Good name, I like it. Easy to remember. Mind if I call you Fuck for short?” He ignored the scowl directed at him. “Why don’t you start by explaining what inspired you to hang around our territory with a rifle?” The male said nothing. As Dante bent forward, the scent of the male’s fear in the air rocketed. “I asked you a question. You don’t have to answer it. In fact, I’m hoping you don’t.”

“Fuck you.”

Dante smiled crookedly. “You’re not going to be cooperative? I love it when that happens. An interrogation’s no fun without a bit of torture mixed in, don’t you agree?”

“If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.”

“I would if I could, Fuck, but as it turns out you’ve got some info I need. Please tell me you’re not ready to share it, because I haven’t got to the fun part yet.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” he growled.

“Good.” Dante grabbed the little finger of Fuck’s left hand and snapped the bone. After the scream of pain faded, Dante asked, “Who are you, and why did you target my female?”

“Fuck you.”

Dante grabbed the next finger up on his left hand and snapped it backward. Fuck’s howl of pain was just as ear piercing as the last. Dante repeated the question with the same amount of patience as before. “Who are you, and why did you target my female?”

“Fuck you.”

He wrenched hard at Fuck’s third finger. Maybe the screams should have made him wince and penetrated his enraged state, but all Dante could think was that these fingers belonged to a hand that had aimed a gun at Jaime and shot her. “I don’t think I have to point out that if you drag this out, this is going to continue for a while.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m beginning to think you have a very limited knowledge of the English language.” Dante snapped his index finger. “Has that answer come to you yet?”

“What’s the point in telling you anything?” he wheezed out, pain etched into his face. “You’ll kill me anyway.”

Dante sighed. “Let’s look at it this way, Fuck. Once you’ve told me what I want to know, I’ll have no more use for you, and you’ll be quickly disposed of. But if you drag this out, you’re going to go through a lot of seriously bad pain first. You shot my female, you put a hole in her leg, you made her bleed, you put her through a serious amount of pain, and I have a huge f**king problem with all that. None of it is acceptable to me, and none of it is forgivable for me. Naturally, there’s no chance of you getting out of this hut alive. Whether you die quickly or painfully is up to you. What will it be?”

“Go f**k yourself!”

Dante shrugged and then quickly snapped his thumb. “Before you again advise me to f**k myself, I should point out that I intend to work through each one of your other fingers. Then I’ll move on to your wrists. Oh and then I’ll look forward to dislocating your shoulders. And after that—”

“All right, fine! I’m a lone wolf. I do…jobs,” he admitted begrudgingly.

Dante whistled. “A gun for hire, huh.” It wasn’t unusual for lone wolves. It was a good way for them to earn money, favors, or protection.

“Your female was just a name on a long list,” he said with no remorse whatsoever.

“Who gave you her name?”

“She didn’t introduce herself.”

Glory. “Go on.” When he didn’t respond, Dante repeated, “Go on. ”

“I’ve told you enough al—” He stopped abruptly and yelled as Dante snapped his other index finger. “She just said to make sure the bitch was dead!”