Page 61 of All Your Hate
“I think there’s something you need to tell me,” Bones says surprisingly calmly to Jackson.
He looks behind Bones and straight at me. Swallowing nervously as he recognizes me.
“What can I help you with?”
Marching up to Jackson, Bones grabs him by the collar and slams his face down onto the desk. “Don’t give me that shit. Why the fuck is she not in your employee records?”
“I—I don’t know who she is! I have lots of girls come and go. If she's one of mine her information probably got misplaced.”
Bones takes hold of one of Jackson’s arms and bends it behind his back at a painful-looking angle. “Don’t fucking lie to me!”
“It’s—it’s just easier with the paperwork to have the girls down as working at one of my other businesses. If a cop comes in and finds them soliciting then it’s not going to be linked straight to me.”
Stepping up to the desk I ask, “How many did you do that to? Everyone I worked with here was a good person. They had families they were caring for. You just let them get arrested like that?” I ask.
“It doesn’t happen that often, but yes.”
Bones bends his arm a bit more and Jackson bucks wildly from the pain. “Why didn't you do anything when Wynter stopped showing up for work?”
“Girls go missing all the time. It’s not my problem.”
Stef was right after all. They didn’t just quit.
“Not your problem?” He puts more pressure on Jackson’s arm and I hear a snap that makes my stomach turn, but I don’t look away as Jackson screams in agony. I'm transfixed by the torture taking place right in front of my eyes.
“Not your fucking problem?” Bones roars.
“No, I’m not getting myself involved when some gangster comes in and takes a fancy to someone. I’d rather they take a few girls than threaten me and my business.”
“You…you let them take me? What about Evie?”
Jackson looks up at me, sweat dripping down his red face. “This is her, isn’t it? The little captive you mentioned before.”
“Shut your mouth,” Bones snarls and twists Jackson’s arm causing another snap.
“Bones, stop!” I say grabbing his shoulder and trying to pull him off.
“Why the fuck would I stop? He practically served you up to them on a silver platter!”
“Jackson, who were they?” I ask, hoping he’ll have a heart.
“I don’t know!”
“But I thought you knew them? They were in here all the time.”
“I didn’t know them like that. They were good customers. Drank and fucked a lot. I’d be stupid to not act like their best friend!” Jackson laughs weakly, sounding pained and desperate.
Bones pulls him off the desk and shoves him to the floor. “Don’t you dare fucking move. Wynter, come here.” He snaps his fingers at me as he sits in Jackson’s chair and I go to him. Not because I want to obey him, but because I don’t want my arms to get snapped in two.
Standing next to Bones, I see him attach a tiny device, no bigger than a thumb tack, to the side of the computer tower while Jackson is preoccupied with his broken arm. “Where the fuck’s your surveillance footage?” Bones snarls as he opens and closes various tabs on screen.
“I wipe it all at the end of each month,” Jackson replies as he tries to sit up on the floor.
“The contracts?”
“Wiped as soon as they’re completed.”
“Fuck!” Bones slams his fist down onto the desk. He looks like he’s about to smash the entire computer to pieces, but he thinks better of it at the last minute.