BREAK by ANDRE NAVARRO

He always had a soft spot for destruction, Lester. He liked guns that left big holes in their targets, forearm-long machetes that could cut a head off with one swing, and when he had to improvise, he tended to choose the kind of bludgeoning weapon that could turn a skull into a fine dust after two or three well-placed hits.

But he wasn't a violent man. Thinking about violence doesn't make you a violent man, just someone who embraces the fascination with violence that is part of human nature. Lester actually saved it for last resort, and was a fan of conversation as a way to solve most conflicts. Problem was, a lot of people didn't share that thought. So Lester had to end their thought process by bashing their brains in. Then he was a violent man, but most of the time, he wasn't.

The bathroom of the nightclub wasn't helping his reasonable mood, though. He was fairly sure if he rubbed his hand on the floor, the tip of his fingers would be covered in a layer of crusty shit.

"You know, Danny," said Lester to the terrified man pressing his back against the wall of the bathroom as if praying it would collapse and give him a way out, "After robbing someone like Mr. Vermont, it's not exactly wise to drink in the same club you were known to drink in before robbing someone like Mr. Vermont -- I'm trying not to hurt your feelings, but you know what? Fuck that. It's downright stupid not to leave the fucking city after robbing someone like my boss."

Lester slowly walked up to Danny, who was shaking visibly from a distance. Up close, it was practically a seizure.

"On second thought," said Lester, "Maybe the reason you didn't leave the city is because you regret doing what you did. You just want a chance to make it up to Mr. Vermont. And the only reason you've just pissed yourself is because I'm a naturally frightening presence. Is that the case, Danny?"

Danny wasn't stupid enough to miss that opportunity.

"Y -- YES! YES!!"

But he wasn't smart enough not to sound ridiculously desperate.

"I don't believe you," said Lester. "Danny, Danny, Danny..."

As he said this, Lester turned his back to Danny and paced slowly around the bathroom.

He knew Danny had a revolver in the back of his shirt. He was also betting Danny was too scared to notice the mirror on the other side of the bathroom that gave Lester a perfect view of him even with his back turned. And that Danny was too scared to miss this opportunity.

Sure enough, Danny's hand flew toward his back. Before it touched the gun, Lester rammed his kneecap into Danny's balls with so much precision you'd think it was a hobby he practiced two hours a day.

"Dammit, Danny," said Lester, as the guy doubled down on the floor with both hands on his testicles and his revolver perfectly visible on his back. He wasn't making a sound, which says a lot about the unimaginable pain he was in. Lester took pride in his steel kneecap. "Seems you are stupid after all."

Lester bent down and gently removed the revolver from Danny's pants. It was a thirty-eight, short barrel, the kind of gun that Lester would be embarassed to point even at a rat.

"Get up," said Lester. "Or I'll kick them again."

Danny practically rocketed toward the ceiling in his hurry to get up. As soon as he was upright, Lester planted a foot on his stomach and kicked. Danny stumbled backwards and hit the wall, confused. Lester pointed his finger down to the floor, and Danny obediently slid down the wall until he was sitting. He was on the verge of tears, and the only thing keeping him on the verge was a small glimmer of hope. The kick hadn't been that hard, after all.

Lester opened the revolver's drum and dropped the bullets on his palm. He pocketed five, and slid one back into the drum, spinning it carefully. He produced a handkerchief and wiped the whole gun thoroughly, then tossed it back to Danny, who was too bewildered to catch it. It bounced on the floor loudly and landed next to his lap.

Lester drew his enormous Desert Eagle and said, "Pick that up and shoot yourself."

Danny's tears poured out, his face twisting into a begging, pathetic whimper. Lester aimed his pistol between Danny's legs. "I'm giving you a chance to do it quick. Mr. Vermont told me to take my time with you, but you ain't worth any more of my time. I might change my mind about that if you keep wasting it anyway."

Danny's tears were coming out in sobs now. He reached for the revolver, grabbed it, and risked a glance at Lester.

"Try it," said Lester with a soft smile. "Go on."

Danny shut his eyes in desperation, and slowly, brought the revolver to his mouth and bit the muzzle.

"Point it upwards, dipshit," said Lester.

Danny scowled at Lester. Taking the revolver out of his mouth and aiming it at his own temple, he yelled, "FUCK YOU!!"

Click.

Danny froze, expecting a very late bullet and slowly realizing it should have come by now.

"Two more pulls of the trigger and you'll make it, Danny. Go on. I'll let the 'fuck you' go."

Danny broke down crying again, in huge vacuum-cleaning sobs.

Enough.

Lester walked up to Danny and took the revolver out of his hand. Without opening his eyes, Danny raised his hands to protect his pathetic, tear-washed face.

"You will take me to where you stashed the money, Danny. And then, you'll leave this city. As long as you do not return, Mr. Vermont will forget about you. Is that clear?"

Danny opened his eyes and gaped at Lester, absolutely stunned. Lester slapped him across the cheek.

"Is it clear, Danny?"

"Yes! YES! Oh thank you thank you thank you, I swear I'll --"

"Shut the fuck up. Go wash your face."

Danny staggered to one of the sinks and splashed the water all over his head like it had been fifteen years since the last time he did that. He didn't care if the water was rustier than the sink.

Lester grabbed him by the wet hair and pulled his head up. They looked at each other through the cracked mirror.

"Remember," said Lester. "Do anything to piss off Mr. Vermont again and you will be worth my time. A lot of it."

He let Danny's head go. He lowered it, then raised it again, then lowered it -- took Lester a while to realize that was a frantic nod.

Lester nodded too. "Let's go then."