“I want his head!” He stabs the photo with his finger. “I want his fucking balls. I want him in fucking pieces.” He slams his fisted hands on the table, making it rattle. “Anything else?” Matt asks sarcastically. Gregory bares his teeth at Matt. “If you two do not get it done, I will make sure you rot in a maximum-security prison for the rest of your goddamn lives,” he warns. Matt chuckles. “I like anal. What about you, Ryat?” “As long as I’m the pitcher,” I say, playing along with whatever game Matt is playing. “Of course,” he adds. Then looks up at him. “I’m sure we can find someone who will
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