Page 60 of Trapping His Angel

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Page 60 of Trapping His Angel

He shook his head no, blood flying out of his mouth like a rabid dog.

“It’s military grade, and the handle is long enough that I don’t have to be close to you to get the results I want.” I jabbed the device into his leg and watched as his body convulsed before me.

Joy rushed through my veins and a sense of power emboldened me. “Dance, monkey, fucking dance!” I jabbed him in the side of his neck and watched as he urinated on himself.

I cackled with glee, the lights brighter and shinier. “Where is he?” I bellowed, pulling the stun gun off his neck to give him room to relax.

“R-rostov-on-Don,” he coughed out, once he caught his breath. “That’s where you can find him. I’ll draw you a map,” he spat.

I motioned for one soldier to come and grab the stun gun. I pulled a handkerchief out of my shirt pocket and cleaned my fingers off, before handing it off to the nearest grunt.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

He glared at me as he tried to get his hand to work, his nerves completely shot after the last round. His fingers wouldn’t clasp together to grab the pen he was trying to hold onto.

My men waited patiently while he took his time, coughing and wheezing, through the drawing of the map. I rolled my eyes, ready to head out once he stopped being so dramatic. He drew one last shaky line and breathed a sigh of relief.

I smiled inside, knowing he thought this meant I was going to let him go. Sure enough-

“You got what you wanted. Can I leave?”

I chuckled. “Sure you can leave, Jose. Do you mind if I call you Jose?” I knew it wasn’t his name, but I didn’t give two fucks. I motioned to my men.

Two left and came back in, shortly after, dragging a bloody body. My prey whimpered as soon as my men revealed the man’s face. As bloody and smashed in as it was, he looked exactly like Jose.

“I’ll let you leave, Jose. I’m a reasonable man,” I drawled. “Your son can stay in your place.”

I motioned to my men to let my prey go. They walked toward his chair, but he started begging hard.

“Please don’t kill my son. I’ll do anything. Please.” His head hung in defeat.

“Oh, I will not kill your son.” I pulled my gun off my holster and handed it to him. “You will.”

My prey started sobbing. “P-please. We will leave Russia. I didn’t even want to be here.” He cried harder.

His son was barely breathing after the beatdown he’d received from my men. “The clock is ticking. If you want to walk out of here, all you have to do is take your son’s life. But believe me,” I paused, grabbing my lighter and a cigarette from the pack in my pocket, and lighting up. I blew the smoke out slowly into the air with a satisfied sigh. “Only one of you is leaving here alive. Which will it be?”

The man sniveled and sobbed, while his son hung limply between two of my soldiers. He held the gun to his head, praying in Spanish to his God. I smirked, knowing the man would save his son by killing himself. A fitting outcome for them selling drugs on my streets.

In the blink of an eye, the man turned the gun on his son and pulled the trigger, dropping it with a wail and sobbing into the concrete floor. The room was silent as me and my men processed what just happened.

“That’s fucked up,” one of them whispered.

Another went to retrieve my weapon off the floor and handed it to me. I shook off my initial shock. “Well, that was surprising now, wasn’t it?” I asked the sobbing father on the floor.

I walked toward him. He looked up at me, babbling in Spanish, holding his hands between us like a prayer. I held the gun to his forehead as his eyes widened in surprise.

“I guess what they say is false.” I pulled the trigger, and watched his head fly backward and hit the ground. “Blood isn’t thicker than water.”

I tucked my gun back into its holster and left the room. It was time to take out the man who was causing all these problems to begin with. The one who called himself a father to mymalen'kiy angel.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The room was pitch black when I opened my eyes again. I looked at the clock to see it was two am, and dinnertime had come and gone. I looked over to the other side of the bed and saw Benedikt hadn’t come home yet.

Or if he had, he wasn’t in our bedroom.

I crept out of bed and into the bathroom to take care of my business. I changed into more comfortable clothes, and headed downstairs to look for a snack. It was weirdly quiet.




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