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“Your patriarch became my prey when he targeted my mate. I’ll never stop hunting him. Never. And I will find him, even if it takes years. So you see, you really can’t save him from me. But you can save yourselves from a night of pure and utter agony by simply being cooperative. Tell me where he is.”
Enrique let out a long breath. “All right, fine. He lives on Hampton Road. Or is it Chancellor Street? Hmm, it could even be Cleaver Avenue. You know, I really can’t be sure.” His head jerked as he hissed.
“Sorry,” said Aspen. “Didn’t mean to pull your hair so hard. It was a total accident.”
Alex sidled up to Tate, his eyes on their captives. “Gideon’s worth going through hours of excruciating pain? To him, you’re nothing but a couple of easily replaceable employees. Loyal, sure, but still replaceable. Your deaths will be no more than a minor hindrance to him, if that.”
“Wrong,” Enrique bit out. “You kill us, he’ll make you pay.”
Noticing that the mamba was now beginning to twine her body around Enrique’s leg, Tate flicked up a brow. “And why would he bother to do that? Maybe you were good little minions, but not good enough to avoid getting caught.” Tate paused. “I want his location.”
“I’d tell you, I would, but it’s hard to remember,” said Enrique. “My memory isn’t what it used to be.”
Wicked fast, Havana twisted a hand in his hair and yanked his head back. She smiled down at him. “Well, hello.” She slashed her claws across his face.
Enrique hissed between his teeth, the sound edged with pain.
Music filled the air as Vinnie chose a song from the selection on his cell phone. “Thought it might be good to disguise the screams. We don’t want the neighbors coming to investigate, do we?”
“He looks pretty with those braids,” said Aspen. “I think he’d look even prettier with some piercings.” She stabbed a claw through his earlobe, eliciting another hiss from him. “Whoops! Made that hole a little too big. Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll be more careful when piercing your nipple, I swear.” Aspen ripped open his tee and pressed the tip of her claw against his nipple.
“Where will we find Gideon?” Havana asked him ever so pleasantly.
“Fuck you,” Enrique gritted out. He again bit back a cry as Aspen sliced right through his nipple. He didn’t make a sound when she sliced through the left one either. Or when she “pierced” his nose, or his eyebrow. But when she mentioned piercing his cock, the guy’s entire body went rigid.
Tate pushed to his feet, slid the small table aside, and stepped forward. “Where do we find Gideon?”
Enrique snarled. “Fuck y—” He grunted as Tate slammed his fist into the guy’s jaw. “Bastard.”
“So I’ve been told.” Adrenaline pumping through him, Tate hit him again and again. Not in anger, not from a loss of control. No, it was a methodical beating designed to both make Enrique cave and Gavin piss his pants. And his cat enjoyed every moment of it.
Tate occasionally stopped, giving the captives a chance to talk, but they kept silent. So he pummeled Enrique’s face until the jaguar’s eyes swelled, his nose broke, his lips split, and his cheekbone fractured.
His knuckles a little banged up, Tate again asked, “Where do we find Gideon? It’s such a simple question. One of you needs to be smart and answer it.”
Enrique spat at him instead. There was a lot of blood mixed with his saliva.
Alex tutted. “That was a very stupid thing to do.” He snapped one of Enrique’s fingers, causing the cat to finally cry out.
Gavin looked away, but Havana gripped his head and forced him to watch as Tate again beat on Enrique, careful where and how hard he hit. He wanted the jaguar to break, not slip into unconsciousness.
“Not telling you shit, Dever—” Enrique screamed as the mamba constricted around his leg, crushing bones.
Havana sighed. “He’s not going to talk, Tate. Other than to swear at you, that is.”
Tate shrugged. “Then he doesn’t need his tongue anymore, does he?”
Gavin’s eyes widened in alarm. Enrique’s eyes probably would’ve done the same if they weren’t almost completely swollen shut.
Aspen held Enrique’s jaw wide open while Luke drew out the man’s tongue.
“A few slices from your claw should sever it easily enough,” Havana said to Alex, who’d unsheathed his large, curved claws.
Gavin panted heavily, his face losing its color.
Still gripping the cat’s head, Havana said, “Gavin, if you want your friend to keep his tongue, you need to tell us where to find Gideon. And if you don’t, if Enrique here loses his tongue … well, he can’t talk anymore, can he? So the only person we’d be able to question is … you. Yes, we’d have to turn all our attention onto you. I don’t think you’d like that Gavin. Nobody would. Save yourself and Enrique. Tell us what we want to know.”
