Quinn's p o v" Goddddddamnit! Please, stop! "Ear cracking groans of agony and frustration from Mario resonated through the walls of the halfway stalked warehouse as Bruno held the pocket knife, firmly embedded in Mario's left breast.I sip my Tennessee whiskey from the square shaped glass while I listen to his screams, my right hand is tightened around the gun in my pocket.As his cries continue, I shake what's left in the glass and pour it in my mouth, pushing it down my throat in one gulp.I had walked in to meet my suited guards trashing poor Mario. Now that I had watched enough, I had his time.My guards make way for me and I eye Mario, covered in his own blood. One of my guards stretches his hand forward and collects my empty glass before I bend over to stare at Mario's bloody face. He had only one eye slightly opened while the other was completely swollen and bruised.He had several knife cuts over his body and a few bruises from heavy punches all over his arms which were tigh
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