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Like I said, predictable.
Ideally, I would have had the five of them here at once. Watching them blame one another, try to barter for their lives with tidbits of information that’s irrelevant and probably falsified. It would have made this whole ordeal a little more fun. But beggars can’t be choosers and all that.
“What do you want?” David snaps, obviously not finding my cliché amusing.
I drag the metal chair from the corner—the only one not bolted to the ground—and swing a leg over it. I fold my arms over the back and use the cold metal that penetrates my shirt to steady myself.
I’ll be the first to admit I have a temper, and it’s got me in trouble more times than I can count, but I need to keep my cool. I don’t want to end this too soon.
“Tell me what you remember about a girl Kyle Clark had you two and three other guys guard.”
They stare at me for a few seconds before shooting looks at one another. “This is about the reward for bringing her in?” David asks.
“You’re a crazy fucker if you think we’re going to help you steal that reward for yourself. We already know where the slut is, and we’ll be the ones to deliver her on a silver fucking platter,” Luke finally speaks, his deep voice low and menacing.
I chuckle and shake my head slowly. “Answer the question before I start using the knives over there to get the answers I want.”
“She was just some whore getting ready to be sold. She was fucked up after her last owner. He had a thing for marking her, and she needed time for those marks to fade before Kyle could get a good price for her again,” David tells me.
“Not that she was worth a dollar of it. The stupid slut should have been put out of her misery after the shit Cyrus did to her. She certainly wasn’t worth whatever they sold her for.” Luke stares me dead in the eye, and I hold his gaze. Hearing him talk about Mia like this makes my blood boil, but I force myself to remain seated.
The longer I stay put, the more they’ll believe this is just a shakedown, a dirty tactic to get to the mark first. I want to lead them into a false sense of security, so when the time comes, slicing into their flesh will be even sweeter.
I do my best to keep my face neutral, but each word alluding to Mia makes rage drum through my veins.
“What if we share the payday?” David offers. “Split it three ways instead of two?”
Luke shoots his partner a glare but doesn’t get a chance to respond before a laugh claws its way up my throat. These motherfuckers have no fucking clue what they’ve stepped into.
I shove myself to my feet and approach Tommy’s torture table, a chuckle clawing up my throat at the nickname. It’s an apt name for the wooden table covered in knives, hammers, and a blowtorch, as well as a shit ton of other shit I wouldn’t want to see my crazy foster brother wielding.
“What…what are you…you doing?” David stammers. He’s the weaker link. I could have told you that from the research we did alone, but this just proves it.
“Do you know the girl’s name?” I ask, running my fingers over a couple of the knives as I choose which I want to start with. The large hunting knife has some appeal, but it might do too much damage. I’m not trained in the art of keeping cunts alive during torture like Tommy is. All the killing I do is quick, but I want to drag this out for as long as possible. I want to make them suffer for what they did to Mia. I want to hand her their bloody hearts as penance and a reminder that I will always keep her safe.
“Mia,” David answers immediately.
I nod as I pick a smaller knife. It’s too easy to make mistakes with this kind of shit, it’s better I take the less menacing knife to begin with. Maybe after the first few of these assholes I’ll have the patience and skill to upgrade, but right now, it’s all about patience. “What else do you know about her?” I turn and lean against the table, running the blade through my fingers, testing the sharpness to make sure it’ll do what I need it to do.
I shouldn’t be surprised it’s sharp as fuck. Tommy takes killing and torture very fucking seriously.
“She was just some slut,” Luke pipes up. “Went through The Factory young. Sold to some rich fuckers who got bored of her before Cyrus picked her up for his games. By the time she went to Lombardi, she was nothing but a brainless whore only good to be used and abused.”
A chuckle claws its way up my throat despite every word out of his mouth being more vile than the last.
He’s dying first. And painfully.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MIA
This might be the most normal I’ve felt since I was in high school.
These kids don’t know me. They don’t know what I’ve been through. All they know is I’m a new face, and each of them tries desperately to find something they have in common with me.
A boy with black hair and dark eyes, I think around ten, shows me his extensive Pokémon card collection, pointing out all his favorites, while a girl of the same age with neat braids and sparking blue eyes talks to me about her doll.
Before these two caught me, three boys in their early teens were telling me about the basketball competition Rayne helped them prepare for, and before that, a little girl, no older than eight, confided in me about her first crush.
