“You enjoy performing procedures without consent, right?” I asked quietly, lifting a scalpel from the tray and turning it between my fingers.
“No!” Salvatore shouted, panic sharpening his voice.
“Good. Then consider this continuing education.”
I returned the scalpel and selected one of the surgical drills instead, testing its weight in my hand.
The loud whir filled the room when I squeezed the trigger.
Salvatore immediately began hyperventilating. “Please don’t do this! Had I known who you were…”
“You would’ve charged more?” I interrupted, with a little sarcasm in my tone.
His mouth snapped shut.
Behind me, Knox chuckled.
I stepped closer, letting the drill hover inches from his face, watching in satisfaction as his breathing became more frantic.
“You inserted yourself into something that never should’ve crossed your table. Then you collected your money, washed your hands, and went on with your life like it was just another quiet transaction. You never stopped to consider whose lives could be destroyed, who could get hurt or who might not survive the fallout.”
“I’m sorry,” he whimpered.
“Now you’re sorry.” I shook my head. “Nigga, you committed a felony with confidence and excellent customer service. The least you can do is die with at least a little dignity.”
Tears streamed down his face. “I was just doing my job!”
“Anillegal one,”I fired back. “But I’ll give you credit. You showed up, handled your business, and completed the procedure.”
I pressed the trigger again, letting the drill scream between us.
“Now it’s my shift… and I hate leaving work unfinished.”
The first blood-curdling scream erupted through the room the moment the drill made contact with flesh.
Salvatore thrashed violently against the restraints while blood sprayed across the concrete floor beneath him. The sound echoed brutally off the metal walls, mixing with the whirring drill and his choking cries for mercy.
Knox, standing a few paces behind me, winced slightly, his expression a mixture of revulsion and grim fascination.
I pushed onward, each motion deliberate as I focused on my task.
Salvatore’s screams slowly turned wet and broke the longer it continued. By the time it stopped, the lower level looked more like a slaughterhouse than a medical setup. Blood coveredthe front of my clothes, the floor, the chair, hell, damn near everything around us.
I finally stepped back, breathing hard.
What remained of him barely resembled a human being anymore, just blood, torn flesh, and consequences.
Knox’s eyes were locked onto the grisly remnants before him.
He finally broke the silence with a low whistle. “Yeah… ain’t no coming back from that shit.”
No, there wasn’t… but I damn sure didn’t feel bad about it either.
Certain situations only end one way once my family name gets involved and that was one of them. The fucked-up part was, I still couldn’t decide who pissed me off more: Salvatore for doing it or Zonnique for making it possible in the first place.
“So, you ready to tell me what the hellreallygoing on? I done heard random pieces, filled in a few blanks myself, and created at least three possible storylines in my head… but clearly, I’m still missing some major episodes,” Knox joked.
Behind us, men were already moving through the area handling cleanup like that was just another shift at work.
