"Should we try his teeth now?" Benjamin asked as he looked at Thomas, who had something on his mind, something that hurt more than Marco could ever imagine.
He had already grabbed the bleach from the ground. "I'm thinking he needs to understand that we're not playing." He said as he stepped in front of him, and Marco was like a zombie. The pain was so brutal that his head felt like it could explode at any moment, and when he saw the bleach, it just made everything worse for him.
But still, he wanted to fight back. In his mind, that thing was still there, that these agencies would brag about him, how he told, how he snitched and at least even though he wasn't a big player like James or Victor, he wanted to have an image that he wasn't a fucking snitch, wasn't a rat, he didn't fold nor did he tell anything. He wanted to keep up the image of a gangster who kept his word.
