‘Tell me,’ he gestures. ‘What should I do with my bonus?’
‘Well,’ I begin, ‘killing me? That’s a message, but keeping me alive? That’s an opportunity.’
Charlie steps forward.
‘You think I care about opportunities?’
‘I’m assuming you care about efficiency. Right now, I’m worth more alive than dead.’
Charlie rolls his shoulders, flexing his fingers. ‘You talk too much.’
‘And yet, here we are. Me talking. You listening.’
Charlie exhales. It’s long, slow, like he’s debating whether to break my nose, and if it would even be worth the effort.
‘What a good idea. Keep talking.’ Charlie nods to the hooded man. His face is unreadable, just a slight smile curling at the sides. Charlie reaches between my legs. ‘Sitting comfortably?’ he asks before pulling my cock free from my trousers. ‘You’re quiet now,’ he murmurs, rolling heavy-duty cables between his fingers. ‘Funny that, huh?’
He leans towards my face, close enough I can smell the brandy on his breath. Then – snap – crocodile clips, sharp and metallic biting onto bare skin. My body tenses as the tremor of electricity crawls through my body.
‘You see, Sal,’ Charlie continues, almost conversationally, ‘you get two choices right now. You can start talking – or I start turning the dial.’
But what Charlie doesn’t know is pain was never the enemy. It snakes through me, curling in my muscles, and pulses through my cock like fire.
And I enjoy it.
Charlie’s watching me. Waiting. Expecting… something. Fear, maybe? Desperation? Instead, I laugh – it’s a rough sound.
‘You’re supposed to beg,’ he says.
‘Turn it up,’ I murmur, leaning forward. ‘As high as it can go,’ I tell him. With a twelve volt battery, the current wouldn’t be lethal, but it would still be intense. As the circuit joins, a sudden jolt shoots through my body like an involuntary twitch. It’s violent, like my spine’s being ripped into static. My nerves spark in panic, limbs jerk against my will. The current sends waves of tingling pain like hundreds of needles driving, simultaneously into my skin. It’s not constant, it comes in bursts, making my cock spasm as heat builds under the clamps. Then, my heartbeat races.
Hello, old friend.
Pain is meant to be a warning – a signal something is wrong. That’s how most people see it. Me? I let it in. The first jolt was sharp, biting, and my body reacts instinctively. I exhale slowly, rolling my head, absorbing every shock as it came. I let him turn up the dial. Let him think he’s in control, think he’s breaking me. He doesn’t understand - I’m already past that point. Charlie paces, he’s irate, knuckles itching for another swing at my jaw. I chuckle, the metallic taste of blood still on my tongue. I can feel my cheek swelling, but I remain positively radiant like I’m just been gifted a fine bottle of whiskey instead of a fat lip.
‘You will talk, Sal. You will tell me what you know about Gabriel.’ His voice is smooth, but rough enough to cut.
Between the shocks, I smile. ‘This, Charlie, this is living. Most people spend their sorry existences trying to avoid pain, drowning it in liquor, numbing with pills, pretending it isn’t knocking at your door. Me? I set a place for it at the table, and shake its bloody hand.’
Charlie scowls, lunging forward. ‘You’ll break.’
I spit blood. ‘You wish I would.’
‘Maybe that little cunt will talk? She does look like she’d have a real tight one, don’t ya say?’
‘Touch her and-’
‘And what, Sal?’
‘I’ll make sure you fucking die this time.’
Charlie roars with laughter, and belts out a tune. It’s something old, he’s off-key, but there’s a rhythm to it. When people laugh like that it isn’t joy, it’s a warning. Twenty years is a long time, it’s long enough for wounds to scar over, but never long enough to forget. Last time, Charlie was left breathing, now there’s no room for second chances.
I took Stella because it was necessary. I’ve kept her alive because letting go wasn’t an option. But now? Now she’s something else. I can’t define it, and I can’t control it. She’s sharp, relentless, refuses to be tamed. She makes me second-guess everything, makes me want to do things I’ve spent the last decade avoiding. I should cut her loose; remind myself she was never mine to keep. But when she looked at me with that fire in her eyes, when she says‘Sal’like it belongs to her, it’s over. She stopped being just a job the moment she made me forget why I started this in the first place. She’s the crack in my armour, that loose thread I should have cut long ago. She’s not just a complication as Mr Lewis had put it; she’s the fire I keep walking into knowing damn well I’ll burn.
Then a scream tears through the air. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Just tilts his head, slow and deliberately, like he’s listening for the next one. It’s as if chaos is a lullaby, and he’s heard this familiar song before.
‘Well, that’s bloody inconvenient.’
