Crossroads - H.S.

Chapter 17

Harry's p.o.v.

"Now," I drop my voice as low as I can, lowering my eyes at the man in front of me as I slowly walk towards him, "Let's try this again."

I pull the strap on the gloves over my hands to tighten them.

I don't normally wear gloves for these sorts of things, but I don't want Jude to see my hands.

Jude.

I can't think of her right now. I can't get soft while I'm here. I have a job to do.

"What do you know about what happened to Jane Reynolds?" I place my hands on both sides of the chair I have him tied to and lean in close.

"I told you," he groans, "I don't know anything." He spits on the floor beside him, blood flying out of his mouth with the saliva.

"Bullshit." I say sharply and push myself off of the chair. I turn on my heels and walk over to the small metal table I have a few feet away.

I grab the small hammer from the table and walk over to the beaten man once again.

"Julian," I draw out his name, "I really didn't want to have to resort to this. But seeing as you can't tell the truth,"

I trail off as I hover the hammer over his hand, "maybe I should break your fucking hands."

I draw back on the hammer, getting ready to slam it down onto his right hand when he speaks up, "Wait!"

I stop and smile at him, raising my eyebrows.

"Talk or I'll break your hands, you don't want to test me." I warn.

"I wasn't involved in any of it, I swear, but I know who was." He pants out, trying to catch his breath.

"Keep talking."

"This guy, uh, they call him Ricky I think. Yeah, Ricky. He used to work for your father's company and he has a lot of connections. I mean, a lot." Sweat is dripping down his forehead as he speaks, and I think he's telling the truth.

"Seeing as it's my company now, why have a never heard of him?" I ask. I have files on everyone who has ever stepped foot into that building, there's no way I haven't come across his file at one point. The name isn't ringing a bell though.

"I don't know," he cries out, pinching his eyes shut in panic, "maybe he's using a fake name. It could be some sort of alias."

I step back and put the hammer down. I rub my hands across my face to remove the sweat that has made its way onto my face in the past hour.

God it's hot in here.

I need to remember to get some sort of air conditioning in here, I'm sweating like a whore in church.

"Have you met this guy?"

"No, but I know someone who has." He pauses and I raise my eyebrows to get him to continue.

"Go on then." I nod my head to urge him to finish his sentence.

"What's in it for me?" He asks. I laugh at his question and walk back over to him, leaning forward and resting my hands on my knees.

"I let you live, that's what. You know not to fuck with me, Julian. You know me well enough to know that there's no compromising or negotiating with me, unless it benefits me. Tell me what you know, now." I hiss out, lowering my voice to the point that I don't even recognize it.

"Fine," he breathes out, "His name is Samuel Rodgers. He lives in Ocean Side, but I don't know his address. It's an apartment just off of the beach."