kneecap, probably shattering it right there, and when Wayne buckled on one foot with a yelp, Vance jabbed the butt end into the boy’s jaw, sending him across the floor in a groaning heap.
Vance shut the front door.
Chapter Seventeen
“W here the hell am I?” the boy moaned, groggily, finally opening his eyes.
The room was dark. Vance had turned off all the lights. Wayne was hog-tied, his arms behind him, dangling from a crossbeam on the ceiling. He couldn’t move. He could barely even breathe. He just hung there, his feet bare, blood pooled in his mouth and all over his shirt.
“Who’s there?” Wayne called out into the darkness. “What’s going on? Why are you doing this to me?”
Poor kid had no idea who had even strung him up there.
Vance rose up and shined a flashlight into Wayne’s eyes. The boy squinted, blinded, turning his face away. “ Who is that? Mr. Hofer? Why the hell are you doing this to me, Mr. Hofer?” The kid was shaking. “What’s going on?”
“What am I doing here, son . . . ?” Vance said, pulling out a chair and sitting down on it in front of Wayne. “I’m simply here to ask you a few things. And how you answer them will go a long ways toward determining whether you ever walk away from here . . . So you think about what I’m about to say, and then we’ll see. Okay, son?”
Wayne nodded, scared out of his mind.
“Good.” Vance continued to shine the light on him. “First is, what did you do to my girl?”
“I’m s-sorry, Mr. Hofer,” Wayne said, tears and mucus streaming down his face and falling onto the floor. He’d always been scared of Amanda’s old man. The guy was crazy. Even Amanda said so. The stories she would tell of him, when she and Wayne were high. How he had this violent streak. How he would just hurt things—stray cats, squirrels, Amanda’s mom. And what he used to do on the force. How he once busted a man’s wrists with his nightstick while the guy was writhing on the ground. Used it in other ways too, he’d heard. Got him thrown off the force.
“You mean her? Brandee? She ain’t nothing to me. She’s just a friend. Amanda’s still my girl.”
Vance shook his head. “I don’t mean about the girl, son. The girl could fuck you to kingdom come for all I care. You really think this is about her? You want to go on living out that putrid, dog-shit life of yours?”
“ ’Course I do!” The kid was openly crying now, almost shitting in his pants. “Please, let me down, sir. You know I do. You—”
“So then I’ll say it again, how you answer’s gonna go a long way toward determining how we get that done, Wayne. So you tell me . . .” Vance stood up and faced him now. “You tell me where you got the drugs from, son. I’m talking the Oxy. That’s why I’m here.”
“ Oxy? We only just smoked a little weed,” Wayne said. “That’s all. We weren’t hurting no one . . . We jus—”
“I don’t mean tonight, you stupid fool,” Vance said, feeling his temper rear. “The Oxy that my little girl was taking. Who just got her life stolen away by whatever it was you pushed on her. That’s where she got them from, right?” Revulsion pooled in his eyes. “The stuff she was on. From you, right, son?”
“No, no . . . It wasn’t from me, Mr. Hofer. I swear.” Wayne was hanging like a side of beef, the blood rushing into his head. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about, sir . . . I—”
“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Vance humphed cynically, almost smiling. “What Amanda was high on when she killed that poor, young gal and her baby . . . While her husband was serving his country over there. Now, I know it was you, son, so there’s no sense playing this out. The Oxy, where’d you get ’em, boy? That’s all that I want to know. Then I’ll hoist you down.”
“I don’t know . . . I don’t know,” Wayne groaned. “She didn’t get ’em from me . . .” He shook his head
Vance shut the front door.
Chapter Seventeen
“W here the hell am I?” the boy moaned, groggily, finally opening his eyes.
The room was dark. Vance had turned off all the lights. Wayne was hog-tied, his arms behind him, dangling from a crossbeam on the ceiling. He couldn’t move. He could barely even breathe. He just hung there, his feet bare, blood pooled in his mouth and all over his shirt.
“Who’s there?” Wayne called out into the darkness. “What’s going on? Why are you doing this to me?”
Poor kid had no idea who had even strung him up there.
Vance rose up and shined a flashlight into Wayne’s eyes. The boy squinted, blinded, turning his face away. “ Who is that? Mr. Hofer? Why the hell are you doing this to me, Mr. Hofer?” The kid was shaking. “What’s going on?”
“What am I doing here, son . . . ?” Vance said, pulling out a chair and sitting down on it in front of Wayne. “I’m simply here to ask you a few things. And how you answer them will go a long ways toward determining whether you ever walk away from here . . . So you think about what I’m about to say, and then we’ll see. Okay, son?”
Wayne nodded, scared out of his mind.
“Good.” Vance continued to shine the light on him. “First is, what did you do to my girl?”
“I’m s-sorry, Mr. Hofer,” Wayne said, tears and mucus streaming down his face and falling onto the floor. He’d always been scared of Amanda’s old man. The guy was crazy. Even Amanda said so. The stories she would tell of him, when she and Wayne were high. How he had this violent streak. How he would just hurt things—stray cats, squirrels, Amanda’s mom. And what he used to do on the force. How he once busted a man’s wrists with his nightstick while the guy was writhing on the ground. Used it in other ways too, he’d heard. Got him thrown off the force.
“You mean her? Brandee? She ain’t nothing to me. She’s just a friend. Amanda’s still my girl.”
Vance shook his head. “I don’t mean about the girl, son. The girl could fuck you to kingdom come for all I care. You really think this is about her? You want to go on living out that putrid, dog-shit life of yours?”
“ ’Course I do!” The kid was openly crying now, almost shitting in his pants. “Please, let me down, sir. You know I do. You—”
“So then I’ll say it again, how you answer’s gonna go a long way toward determining how we get that done, Wayne. So you tell me . . .” Vance stood up and faced him now. “You tell me where you got the drugs from, son. I’m talking the Oxy. That’s why I’m here.”
“ Oxy? We only just smoked a little weed,” Wayne said. “That’s all. We weren’t hurting no one . . . We jus—”
“I don’t mean tonight, you stupid fool,” Vance said, feeling his temper rear. “The Oxy that my little girl was taking. Who just got her life stolen away by whatever it was you pushed on her. That’s where she got them from, right?” Revulsion pooled in his eyes. “The stuff she was on. From you, right, son?”
“No, no . . . It wasn’t from me, Mr. Hofer. I swear.” Wayne was hanging like a side of beef, the blood rushing into his head. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about, sir . . . I—”
“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Vance humphed cynically, almost smiling. “What Amanda was high on when she killed that poor, young gal and her baby . . . While her husband was serving his country over there. Now, I know it was you, son, so there’s no sense playing this out. The Oxy, where’d you get ’em, boy? That’s all that I want to know. Then I’ll hoist you down.”
“I don’t know . . . I don’t know,” Wayne groaned. “She didn’t get ’em from me . . .” He shook his head
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