Jack
Sisco's grip tightened around the delivery man's throat, his muscles flexing with the effort. The guy’s face flushed red, veins popping as he gasped for air, eyes wide with terror. He kicked his legs uselessly, trying to find some relief. “Tell me who sent it!” Sisco growled, his voice low and venomous. “Or I’ll make sure you never leave this building alive.”
The delivery man choked, his breath a desperate wheeze. “I don’t know!” he sputtered, his voice cracking under the pressure. “I swear I don’t know anything! I was just given the package to deliver—please! I’m just the messenger!”
Sisco’s eyes narrowed, dark and threatening, as if he was contemplating whether to snap the man’s neck right there. I could see the urge in his posture, in the way his knuckles whitened. But then some
