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“That will come,” Drake said, and bent over, resting his hands on his knees and bringing his eyes level with Owen’s. “First? Tell me why? Why Owen? After all we went through, why did you betray me?”
Owen smirked sadly. “Do you even care, Drake?”
“I do,” he said quietly. “It matters, Owen.”
Owen spat at Drake, the wad of saliva hitting him in the cheek. “My nephew mattered to me! He fucking mattered, Drake,” he screamed. “And you fucking killed him.”
“That’s true,” Drake said, wiping his face, voice still placid. “But you left me no choice, did you? Plus, I doubt he was a very good young man. This isn’t about him though. Why did you betray me?”
Owen was crying now, tears rolling down his face, cutting streaks through the blood on his lips. He glanced at me. “Because of her.”
Drake turned and looked at me, a confused look on his face, then looked at Owen again. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I knew it from the moment you mentioned her. I could see it in your eyes. For some reason she was special to you. When you set me to researching her and picking her victims for the house, I could read the writing on the wall. You were setting her up to replace me. Eventually, you’d get me out of the way, and then she’d be your assistant. All I did was jump the gun and get the drop on you before you could slit my fucking throat.”
Drake let out a sad and weary laugh. “Owen. I never wanted to replace you. All I wanted was for Dahlia to join us. We would have been a team. Don’t you get that? Can’t you see it?”
Owen chuckled. “Yeah, you can say that now, but we really know the truth. Your little piece of ass over here,” he nodded to me, “was all you could think about. Fucking her, getting her to suck your dick, killing for you, it all made sense. You were going to betray me. I wasn’t going to allow that. So I took matters into my own hands.”
A wicked and ghastly smile spread across his face then. “You know what? After Bri and I caught them? I tied your daddy up, and made him watch your mommy suck my cock. I came down her throat. Told her if she didn’t do a good job, I’d kill her old man. You know what?” Owen winked. “That was the best fucking head I ever got in my life.”
Drake’s stoic emotional control shattered then. His face warped into a visage of unbridled horror and rage. My own fear fluttered up like butterflies in my chest seeing it. Heartbreak and anger threatened to shatter the man I loved, and I wouldn’t allow that.
“Let’s break him, Drake. Together,” I said, putting a hand on his arm. “Make him pay.”
Flinching as though he had forgotten I was there, Drake turned his teary eyes toward me and nodded, not able or willing to speak.
“Yeah,” Owen mocked. “Do your fucking worst. I won’t scream though. You hear me, you cunt?” he yelled. “I won’t scream.”
“We’ll see about that,” I said, and walked over to a table of items Drake had set up before waking Owen, and grabbed a pair of dental pliers, handing them to my lover with the delicacy of an engagement ring.
“Work slow,” I whispered, as Drake’s fingers tightened around the tool.
Drake grinned and turned to Owen. I went behind the man and placed my hands on his forehead, yanking his head back, hard. Drake grabbed Owen’s chin and pressed it down before shoving the pliers into his mouth. The faint clicking sound of metal on teeth was punctuated by Owen’s strained grunt of pain as Drake clamped onto one of his back teeth and began to pull. Tears sprang out fresh in Owen’s eyes as they bulged from the pain. The veins and muscles stood out taut on Drake’s forearm as he struggled to pull.
After a few seconds, a disgusting pop sounded from within Owen’s mouth, and Drake hauled the tooth out, strings of blood and saliva dripping from it. For his part, Owen lived up to his word. He hadn’t screamed, though he was making manic pained grunting sounds, and breath hissed in and out of his nostrils, a snot bubble forming and popping in one.
Drake tossed the tooth aside, and glared at Owen. “That was for betraying me.”
He lunged forward, wrenching Owen’s mouth open again, this time making quicker work of the next tooth. This time, despite his big words, Owen did scream, a high-pitched keening as Drake pulled it free.
“This one,” he said, holding it up to Owen’s eyes. “Is for my father.”
Like an animal going back to a feast, Drake shoved his hands back into the mouth. My hands slipped on Owen’s forehead, the sweat pouring off of him making his skin slick, but I maintained my hold. Barely.
When he pulled the next tooth free, the look on Drake’s face was only one step away from madness. He waited until Owen’s cries abated before speaking again.
“This one is for my mother,” Drake growled and spun the tooth around, so the pointed root pointed down, and then jammed it directly into Owen’s right eye. “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, you fucking bastard.”
I released Owen’s head as he thrashed around, screaming until Drake had shoved the entire tooth into the eye. Like the man in the hall earlier, blood and a snot-colored fluid dripped down his cheek, and the rigged surface of the tooth was visible inside the bloody pulpy mess.
“Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou…” Owen’s screams went on as he thrashed about in the chair. His anger and pain exploding as shouts and bellows of agonized rage.
Drake pulled his knife out, and began to cut. Working in thin strips, he began to flay the flesh from Owens arms and shoulders. Thin bands of skin peeled away and the screams became more inarticulate and psychotic. I watched as his arms became red ruins of muscles, fascia, and fat. The more he screamed the wetter and more aroused I became. This was what I’d craved for so long. A final retribution. Drake’s eyes were wide with concentration as he continued tearing away thin sections of flesh and tossed them aside.
Leaving him to work, I strode over to the big chest in the corner of the room, looking for more implements of pain. Inside, I found what I’d been looking for. A small plastic bottle filled with clear liquid. Rubbing alcohol.
Returning, I unscrewed the cap and upended it on Owen’s arms and shoulders. Over sixty percent of the skin had been removed, and I poured alcohol over every square inch of it. Owen went into what I could only call seizures of agony as the liquid rained down upon him.
