Asher
The sharp echoes of his screams bounce off the cold concrete walls, each one more irritating than the last.
I'm used to multitasking—usually the one behind the computer screen pulling strings but tonight, I'm also the one holding the knife. And honestly, I don't have the patience for both.
Normally, I can wait for hours—days even, if I know answers are coming. But this guy's too busy sobbing and shaking to string a full sentence together.
I press the blade just under his eye. "I'm about two seconds away from sliding this into your fucking socket," I say calmly. "And I'm not in the mood to be careful."
"Please," he gasps, jerking against the ropes. "I swear, I don't know anything about any organ harvesters in Brookshigh. I just got an invitation to be a delivery man on a random Monday morning. It's just pick-up and delivery I do, and I'm being paid in cash. That's it."
I tilt my head and whisper sharply, giving a little shake "Soo... you're just wasting my time?"
