Page 168 of Beautiful Scars

“Look, man, I’m sorry, okay? I’ll never go near her again. I just wanted to talk to her. But I’ll stay away, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you won’t keep,” I tell him, and come out holding a wrench. I stand, and tap the metal end against his knee. “Left or right?” Then I shrug. “From what people tell me, both hurt equally as much.”

“Please!” Alex writhes against his bonds, face going white. “Just let me go. I swear, I won’t touch her. Won’t go near her.”

“I’m not worried about that, am I?” I frown over Alex’s head at Derek.

“Nah, mate,” Derek says.

“No. Course not. Because you won’t have legs to walk with when I’m done with you.”

“No! Please! Do you want me to sign something?” There’s spittle on his lips now, a wild look in his eyes. Well and truly into the bargaining phase, isn’t he? But what the fuck is he talking about?

My frown deepens, and I cock my head again. “Sign? What the fuck—”

“Like, a, uh—” He swallows hard, sniffs back the snot that’s starting to run out of his nose. “Fuck, I don’t know. Something that gives her up. Like, to say I don’t want her.”

I look past him again, but not as part of one of my many tried-and-trusted torture routines. I genuinely don’t have a fucking clue what this cunt’s on about. Derek purses his lips—he’s just as mystified.

Before I can open my mouth, Alex rattles on. “I just wanted money. A little money. She sent me to fucking prison you know!”

And just like that, scared shitless Alex transforms into something else. I’d have gone with an ex-boyfriend maybe, but now I’m not so sure. In fact, the only thing I am sure about is that this guy is a few sandwiches short of a picnic.

Derek ties off the gag, which isn’t part of any script. Then he cocks his head to the small bathroom.

So I widen my eyes at him and lift my shoulders. I’m almost tempted to ask why he didn’t go for a piss before we left home. But he just widens his eyes at me and cocks his head with more emphasis. What, now I have to hold his dick for him?

“Kill,” he says, and makes eyes at the bathroom door.

“No, please! I don’t need the money!” Alex yelps, completely misunderstanding Derek.

I follow Derek to the tiny bathroom, climbing into the tub when I realize there literally isn’t enough space for Derek too. “The fuck?” I hiss.

“Said Meisie sent him to prison,” Derek says.

“Yeah, I fucking heard.”

“He got five years for rape.”

Rape. Interesting.

Fucking interesting indeed.

Always suspected that. That’s always been there in my head. Pushed to the back in a box with all the other things that risk making me feel anything other than numb.

But it’s not in a box now.

Nah, it’s on the other side of the door.

Derek’s looking at me like I’m a smoking car wreck. I give him a nod, it’s supposed to look reassuring, but it only lasts long enough for me to take one long breath.

I surge for the door, almost knocking Derek into the wall to get past. But he grabs the front of my shirt, stalling me. “If you kill him, he can’t tell us where she is,” he whispers furiously.

I slap away his hands and barely stop myself from punching him. I want to tell him I can control myself, but judging from the buzz in my ears, I know that would be a lie. So I grimace at him and squeeze past, almost throwing the door off its hinges when I slam it open to get out.

Alex somehow managed to move more than a foot over the floor and loosen the gag. When he sees me emerge from the bathroom like the personification of a demon, he lets out a gibbering wail.

I storm over, grab a fistful of his hair, and slam my fist into his jaw.