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“Of course you will,” I drawl. “That was never really the question. But we have another problem. You threatened the love of my life. Not once, but twice, and that’s not something I can tolerate.” I fall silent, letting the air fall pregnant with all the possibilities of my cruelty. “If our server is so kind to attend,” I finally say.
Gathering his wits, the poor guy hurries over.
“The man that Mr. Petrenko was having such a good time with,” I say, “he had a rather interesting device around his penis. Please fetch me one.”
The server bows and gets quickly on his way.
“What the hell are you doing?” Boris shrieks, oily hair draped over his sweaty forehead.
“I may be an evil bastard, but I do have a sense of justice, you see. And I think you should get the treatment you apply to others.”
“I’m a member of the Blood Fist Triad, you can’t just do this kind of shit to me,” he shouts desperately. Laredo struggles, worried that he might be next, but my arm tightens around his neck. He grunts in pain, realizing that fighting will only make matters worse.
“Keep the rifle pointed at his forehead, or I’m going to blow your balls off,” I growl in his ear. Then, addressing Boris again, “As for the rank you just pulled, Boris, I’ll have you know that I despise classist bastards almost as much as I do sadists and narcissists.”
The server returns, offering the device to me. I bare my teeth at Boris, looking forward to this.
“Give it to Mr. Petrenko here. I’m sure he prefers to apply it himself. You know, considering the alternative, which is his friend Mr. Cordoba.”
Laredo shudders in my grip. “Keep that rifle up and pointed.” I give out a low laugh. “Pun intended.”
From the corner of my eye, I notice Sirenna shifting on the sofa. She’s a champion for barely making a sound through all of this, but I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, she unearthed much of her ex’s ugly business and even some of Jax Vaughn’s, not to mention mine, which is an impressive feat. Joseph was–and technically still is, since I haven’t killed him yet–a member of the Triad, but she’s got something on all of them.
Jax Vaughn is the worst of the hydra’s three heads, but even though I’d never admit this out loud, he’s the most palatable to me. I always felt a strange kinship with him, and considering all the stuff Sirenna unearthed about him while working undercover, it’s not surprising. Plus, she’s friends with his wife, Vaughn’s only soft spot, and I like that about him.
I remain sharply aware of Sirenna as Boris pushes down his pants and fastens the metal cage around his flaccid penis, and secures it around his hips. My teeth grind against each other. I hadn’t taken into account that this might make her uncomfortable, not after she watched him and Laredo have their way with the prostitutes without flinching. But there’s obviously something particularly disturbing in this for her. As for me, I’m growing hungry for violence. The beast inside licks his fangs, ready to shed his skin.
“I understand that it becomes particularly painful if you get an erection,” I tell Boris when he’s done fastening the thing around himself, his pants hanging halfway down his legs. “Sadly, we have no one around willing to stimulate you, but worry not.” The corners of my mouth lift up devilishly. “I’ve got a solution for you.”
One arm still tight around Laredo’s neck, my hand dashes forward, gripping the rifle over Laredo’s fist, finger on the trigger. Boris’ arms fly up in the air with a sharp inhale, followed by a curse.
I laugh, taking in his terror like it’s fucking dessert.
“Intense fear often triggers the same bodily reactions as arousal,” I explain. “That is, of course, unless the person doesn’t soil themselves first.”
Pain tears through Boris’ features, rendering him unable to keep his arms up to save his own life. He reaches down and grabs his cock that strains against the cage, the metal chafing his skin. I can sense Sirenna shudder as if it were happening in her own body. She can put up with watching people getting it on in all kinds of ways, but torture is clearly outside her comfort zone.
“Don’t you dare free your cock before you declare out loud that Sirenna Carter, future Mrs. Thorngren, is your lady and mistress. Say it out loud so everyone can hear it. Tell us how you’ll cede your place in the Triad and how all of your acolytes will answer to her.”
“I’ll give you anything you want,” he shouts, his hands trembling violently as he pushes them back up. Sweat drips from his hair down his nose and onto his chin.
I click my tongue, slowly shaking my head. “I’ll need you to be more specific than that.” I dip my chin, letting him see the devil in my eyes. “I’m sure you heard what I do with men who try to cross me by playing with words. I do even worse to men who fail to honor my woman. Though lucky for you, my future wife doesn’t enjoy torturing evil motherfuckers as much as I do, so I’d rather spare her the show. So, I’m going to repeat what you need to do–you are to swear allegiance to her, and not me. She, and not I, will be replacing you in the Triad. All of your men will serve her, this one included.” I jerk Laredo forward, causing Boris to scrunch his eyes shut and whimper.
“Ricky and Lorenzo will be delighted to learn that they’ll be taking orders from her from now on. If not, they will be taking them directly from Lucifer–in hell.”
“You’re fucking Lucifer,” Boris whimpers. “You’re the whole damn hell. But your kingdom is about to cave in on you, you twisted motherfucker.”
My eyes narrow. It cost him all of his remaining strength to bring that over his lips. They’re white, bloodless, and he looks like he’s about to collapse in on himself.
Then I become aware of movement in the background. What he intended to distract me from.
One of the masked men dashes from the wall he’s been slinking along, throwing himself at Sirenna. Her eyes pinned on me, she doesn’t even notice him until I twist the rifle in his direction and pull the trigger over Laredo’s finger. Thanks to the silencer, the sound of the shot is minimal, but the sound made by the mercenary’s head as it explodes in a splatter of blood is not. The mess lands all over the table, the couch, and Sirenna’s face, bits of brain splashing and squelching on the floor. Sirenna gasps, staring at me with eyes so wide they look like they’re about to pop out. In shock, her mind is unable to process what just happened.
I redirect the rifle swiftly toward Boris, jamming it into his forehead and pinning him to the wall. He neurotically repeats “Shit” and “Fuck”, shaking all over, while his penis strains so hard against the cage that it bleeds. I click my tongue as if this were just another tea party at The Plaza.
“And here I was, thinking your boys would know better than to kick open the gates of hell.” With that, I rake the rifle down to his arm, still using Laredo’s hands, and shoot.
Sirenna lets out a shrill scream, creating a symphony with Boris’ agonizing cry of pain. Laredo faints, so I let him drop to the floor, taking the rifle in my own hands.
