He didn’t wait for Dylan to answer. He wasn’t here for the cop.
Rounding the house, he came to a stop at the sound of voices and dogs.
“We need more dogs. They’re piling up, man.”
Bull stayed still and slowly looked around the side of the building. Two men stood facing each other. One was small, the other particularly large. He didn’t recognize either man.
“Julio wants this shit dealt with.”
“Look, we can’t get to the girl. She’s useless. We told you that. There’s no good way to get to Bull.”
“Julio needs to come up with another plan.”
This was all kinds of interesting, but for Bull, he’d heard enough.
“Well, why doesn’t Julio come and talk to me?” Bull asked, making his presence known.
The two men drew their weapons, but he fired, sending one man crashing to the floor and grabbing his leg, and with the other, the perfect shot right through the hands.
Dylan came around the corner, red-faced and pissed off. “Bull, this isn’t your operation.”
“Actually, Sheriff, do you remember our little agreement?” Bull asked. “The one where we agreed not to get into each other’s business so we could have a long and happy life together?”
“Yes,” Dylan said through gritted teeth.
“I’d like you to meet cartel member number one, and cartel member number two. That makes this club business. I suggest, for your own sake, you head back to the car and forget about what you saw today. I will come to you to get the dogs.”
Dylan looked like he wanted to argue.
“They were talking about hurting Maddie,” Bull said.
The sheriff put his gun away. “Fine, but … damn it, Bull.”
“I’ve got this, Sheriff. Don’t worry about me.”
“You’re making a big mistake,” Cartel Member Number One said.
Bull tutted. “I’m making a big mistake. I’ve been the Vito Crew Cartel’s errand boy for the last time. You’re going to tell me exactly what I need to know.”
“We talk to you, we’re already dead. Julio will see to it.” This came from Cartel Member Number Two.
“Yes, yes, I keep hearing how big and bad Julio is. I’ve never met him, but seeing as you two are here, I think I can get my answers out of you.”
The first cartel member laughed.
Bull was rather amused. Bleeding from a gunshot wound, and he was laughing. The guy had balls.
“We will never talk. You will never get anything out of us.”
Bull looked between one and two, then two and one. Both of them looked pretty sure about that.
“Okay, fine. I was hoping you’d guys would pick the hard way, and I’m guessing it is my lucky day.”
Some of the dogs had simmered down a little bit.
He spotted two chairs that had seen better days. Within minutes, he had both men in chairs and went hunting for some make-do torturing tools. When the guy with the bleeding hands tried to escape, he shot him in the leg, stopping him from going anywhere.
Once Bull had rope and the necessary house tools that could easily be used for implements of torture, he returned. He’d also put a call through to the club. They were on their way.
It was time to gather the information he needed, to kill Julio and the Vito Crew, and to take back his woman.
Bull was bored with waiting. He was tired of being a man’s whipping boy. Staring between each man, wondering where to start, he grabbed his cell phone and called William.
“What?” William asked when he picked up.
“Now is that any way to talk to the man who is going to help you get revenge on your brother?”
“The only way I’m going to get revenge for my brother is if you have Julio.”
“I don’t quite have Julio, but it won’t be long now. I’ve got two of his minions. They set up another dogfighting ring. Do these things make that much money?”
“They’re a start,” William said.
“Yeah, well, I’m shutting that shit down.” He loved dogs. Always had.
“Give me your location,” William said.
Bull gave it, and the next call he did was to Grant, giving him an update, and telling him not to let Maddie anywhere near them. To keep her at the animal shelter for as long as possible.
He wasn’t going to stop until he had all the answers.
“I’m so very sorry about all of that,” he said. “I do hate to keep the pain waiting.” He looked through the rusty tool kit and found what he was looking for. A nice big pair of pliers.
Holding them up, he looked between the two men, trying to figure out who he should hurt first. “One or two. Two or one.”
Both men looked nervous.
He wondered which one would talk. In his experience of torture, especially with two people, make one of them feel the pain, advance to the other who’d witnessed it all, and tada, you have your blabber.