Dead ringer

Rowan

Ethan's eyes were wild with fear, his entire body trembling as he knelt before me. The barrel of my gun was pressed against his forehead, and his lips quivered as he begged for his life.

"Please, Rowan…please! I swear, I don't know anything! I was just following orders!"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "If pleading worked on me, Ethan, I wouldn't have this job." I cocked my head slightly, watching him squirm. "So here's the deal, you tell me the truth, and I might let you walk out of here. I am kind hearted like that."

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around like he was searching for an escape that didn't exist.

I let him breathe for a second before asking, "Who messed with the shipments?"

"I—I don't know," he stammered.

Wrong answer.

I slammed the butt of my gun into the side of his head. A sharp crack echoed through the field as he yelped in pain, blood already trickling down his temple.