“What do you want, Marcus,” Evan asked as he walked past the men to his kitchen.
“You know what we want,” the tall man said as he stood up, nearly bumping his head on the ceiling. “Just give it to us and we’ll be on our way. Don’t give it to us and we’ll see how well you can do your research with your fingers cut off.” Marcus tilted his head toward one of the other men, a thug named Caleb whose shoulders were almost as wide as he was tall. Caleb pulled out a black ceramic bladed knife from his pocket, the kind perfect for getting around security.