Shadows In Durango

****Vincent's POV****

Driving towards my parents' 'holiday cottage' by the beach, I press down on the gas knowing that the sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can go back home.

My phone rings as I grow closer. I press the button on my steering wheel to answer it, playing the voice through the car.

"Where are you, Vin? We've been here for hours and my girl has started to think that I'm fucking around on her now!" Leroy speaks out, as I take the next turn towards the cottage.

"I'm coming down the dirt road right now, I'll be there in five," I respond briefly, trying to keep my cool since Leroy had done me a favor by staying there overnight to keep a watch with Quade.

I didn't need any of this to fuck up... not after what those bastards did. I didn't want them to escape, not that I think they would even be capable of that, but I didn't want to risk it nonetheless.

As I pull up to the cottage, the ocean's scent and the sound of waves crashing nearby do nothing to calm my building anger.

I spot Leroy pacing near the porch, his silhouette illuminated by the sunlight which would be slowly setting soon.

I park up and step out, slamming the door gaining Leroy's attention as he flicks his cigarette down onto the floor and stomps it out.

"About damn time," Leroy mutters his complaint, walking over to meet me. "They've been getting restless now - probably their longest time without drugs in a while I bet." He suddenly laughs, as I nod stiffly.

"Have they tried anything smart?" I ask, grabbing the bag from the trunk before closing it again.

"No, but they're on edge. Can't blame them, now that they're sober they must know that they've fucked up! One of them has been a cheeky shit though!" Leroy says, leading the way to the back of the cottage as though I didn't already know where to go. "So what's the plan?" He turns and asks over his shoulder.

I hesitate for a moment, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on me. "We get them to explain themselves and why they did what they did. If they don't, then we make them talk. Then I demand the money back that they stole from Sofia - which I know they won't have anymore - and for that, we punish them." I shrug meekly.

Leroy nods, his jaw set and knowing first hand that once I was pissed off to this extent, there was no going back.

We reach the back door, as he pushes it open and we step inside to my parents neatly kept 'home away from home' which always made me laugh since they moved around so much that they technically didn't even have a set home. The place was quiet, as I knew Quade would be down in the basement with tweedle dee and tweedle dumb, no doubt provoking them for his own amusement.

"You want me to stay up here and keep watch?" Leroy suggests as I agree to the idea and watch him flop down onto the sofa.

Walking through in to the back towards the kitchen, reaching the brown door leading down to what had become my torture chamber for those who disrespected me and my men, I turn the handle and step through on to the familiar concrete staircase.

It was a cold, unforgiving room, home to no windows and an array of garden and home tools hung around the walls.

Reaching the bottom of the steps, I see them both, tied back to back on two chairs in the middle of the room, the scraggly figures.

"What's up Vince!" Quade comes to shake my hand in greeting, as though this was just another normal day for us, whilst the two men's eyes widen in fear as they see me.

"You've made a mistake, we did nothing," one of them says, voice shaky and skin glistening with sweat.

That will be the withdrawals taking its toll...

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I step closer to the one that speaks, letting the anger I've been holding back seep into my voice. "No, the mistake was yours. Now, you're going to tell me everything I want to know if you want to leave here alive." I spit on him, degrading him completely as worry flashes across his features but he chooses to bite his tongue.

The figure to my left, a man with a bruised and busted up face, spits on the floor at my feet in defence of his buddy. "We don't fucking have anything to tell you."Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

How sweet.

Quade moves swiftly, landing a punch to the man's gut that doubles him over. "Try again," Quade growls, identifying himself as the one who had no doubt caused the same assault on his face prior to my arrival.

"Let's start simple. Where is the money?" I pace back and forth before them, tossing my bag on to the floor and allowing for them to hear it clammer with heavy material.

One of them coughs, struggling to breathe after Quade's heavy punch to the gut. "We... we don't have it. We didn't take it." He lies, as my head falls back and I laugh at him.

I click my tongue mockingly, considering my next move. "Quade, go boil the kettle upstairs." I smile at them as I speak, watching their brows sink.

They don't want to test me here...

As Quade laughs and heads up the steps, I turn my attention back to the first of the two. "You don't want him to come back down here with that water, trust me. Tell me what I want to know."

He trembles, glancing at the other bruised up man, stuck in a mental battle to save his own life. "We were just desperate. Some of the money is stashed in my room - top floor - but the rest we went and spent on the good stuff. We didn't know that the girl was in a gang or we would have left her alone! We just thought she was an easy target - please! We made a mistake!" He screams his statement, sickening me with his admission despite that I already knew what it was for and why they did it..

They preyed on and stole from the weak just to feed a habit... scum!

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"You make me fucking sick! Low life junks!" I sneer, as he shakes before me, the sweat build up getting increasingly feverish even in the cold temperature of the room. "Please we're fucking addicted man! It's our whole life!" He cries, as I scoff.

"So you were willing to break in to a young girls apartment and steal from her?! What if she would've been home when you broke in huh? What the fuck were you planning to do to her then?!" I begin to yell, before the door opens and footsteps are heard - revealing Quade with the boiling hot kettle and rag in hand.

"We would've fucked the bitch first!" The other decides to be bold once again, having recovered from the punch as I turn my whole attention back to him. This prick is about to die.

"Is that right?" I cock my head to the side, as he nods, a fury igniting in his eyes.

He was clearly the leader of the pair... probably the mastermind behind the grand plan!

"Quade, drown this pig!" I click my finger, as he begins to desperately thrash against the chair, finding no freedom.

The other begins to sob, crying apologies over and over whilst his buddy tries to remain brave - though his face betrays him.

Quade throws the rag over his whole face, yanking his head backwards by his hair before beginning to pour the scorching liquid over him - his agonising screams muffled by the now wet cloth.

His body seizes up quickly, the panic and shock settling in before the cloth starts to stick to his burning flesh.

The worst part was, I didn't feel bad about it either.