A week had passed since the death of Terry O’Brady. A week Brian hadn’t caught a single break about his killer. Or why. The Boss wasn’t happy, which meant Brian didn’t get a moment of rest.
“Listen. It’s simple. I just need a name.” Brian paced the floor of the dry cleaner. “Just a single name. And the first one to talk…,” he pulled back the slide on the 9mm, “gets to walk out of here. Alive.”
He turned to one of the four men hanging by the hooks, dangling in mid-air, “So, who wants to talk first?”
PHOTO PROMPT © Mary Shipman