HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING
The Boss tilted his head slightly, his gray eyes scanning through them.
“So, what exactly were you chasing?”
One of the goons fumbled for words.
“Uh—there was a girl. Tiny thing. We thought maybe we should grab her, y’know… just in case she saw something.”
The Boss’s gaze didn’t budge.
“And what about the job I gave you?”
“Bobby’s handling it, Boss! We just—”
“You just what?, thought you could slack off,”
the Boss interrupted, his voice turning cold.
“Do I look like I’m paying you to screw around?”
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