Threaten

“Where’s Jamal?” I asked.

“Shit, like I’m going to tell you. Who—”

To hell with being discreet. I grabbed my gun and pointed it at the kid. He looked like he was about to piss himself as his friends turned to run out the other entrance on the far side of the fence. “I can shoot faster than all of you can run,” I said loud enough for each of them to hear.

“Don’t,” the kid said as he cringed.

“Where’s Jamal?”

“I-Why do you want to know?”

My nostrils flared as I put my finger on the trigger. I was only trying to bluff, but if the kid pushed me, that would change. I couldn’t afford to have one of the little bastards go warn my target. “Where is he?” I repeated.

“If I tell you, he’ll kill me.”

“If you don’t, so will I.”

The kid started to tremble. “Last chance,” I said.

Slowly, he lifted his arm and pointed to the street at my right. “He-he’s in the bar around the corner.”

“If you’re lying—”

“I’m not, I swear,” he said as he stared at me desperately.

I nodded and looked at all of them. “If any of you try and warn Jamal, I’ll find you. When I do, it will be much worse than anything he or his friends will do to you.”

Without waiting for any of them to test my patience, I put my gun away and headed in the direction the kid had pointed.

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