Page 137 of The Dearly Departed

"I don't—"

Gerald took something from his pocket—my butterfly knife. The one I always kept on me. Funny that I hadn't noticed it missing until now. He flipped it open and pointed the blade directly at my throat.

"Remind you of something?" he asked, a glimmer of glee in his eye. "This is exactly how you threatened me right before I became pals with your dear old Leonard."

Shawn’s and Ike's faces each represented their shock, both of them startled by the information.

"Hmmm … what should I do with this?" Gerald taunted, flipping the blade between his fingers with dexterity and ease, never taking his eyes off me. "I could … no, that'd be silly … or I … nah, too harsh …" He pursed his lips before spreading them wide in a mischievous grin. "Ah, yes. I know what to do."

With casual flair, he left me to walk the length of the room and grabbed a wooden chair from against the wall. Then he dragged it over to where I stood, its legs scraping along the concrete floor.

"Take a seat, my boy," he ordered, and without protest, I did as I had been told. "Now, I understand you're not the only problem in this equation. Dean—”

“Dean had nothing to do with this,” I interrupted, lying through my teeth.

Gerald studied me. “He drove the car,” he argued, peering down at me. “Don’t worry. I won’t kill him. But he will suffer the consequences of his actions. And of course, Analise—"

My face contorted with anger as I moved to spring from the seat. “If you hurt her, if you lay a fucking hand on her, I swear to God, I will—”

He shoved against my chest, pushing me back down. “Oh, knock it off, Romeo. I’m not going to touch her. I love that girl, believe it or not, but she is …" He sighed with irritability. "Well, she's taken by you for some reason, and she will need to understand what her wifely duties are, now that she's married and all."

The reminder forced my eyes to close as the air left my lungs.

Oh, Analise.

Anna.

The hell she was going to suffer at Benjamin's hands was unfathomable, and it was up to me to stop him—and I would. But I needed her to hang in there while I figured out how to do so without raising suspicions … or I'd be sealing all our fates.

"But the temptation for both of you will be there, I understand, and so …" I watched as he nodded to himself. "I need to make your charm less appealing, and I will have to give her the same treatment."

“But you said—”

I started to spring to my feet once again when Gerald lifted his foot and pressed it to my thigh, holding me down. The heel of his shoe dug into my skin, but I felt little pain as I seethed, looking into his taunting gaze.

"What are you going to do to her?" I demanded.

"I'm gonna need you to stay still, son," he said, ignoring the question as he grasped my chin in his hand.

And, yeah, I could fight him.

I could wrestle my knife from his hand and drive it through his carotid artery just as I'd done countless times before to men he'd hired me to kill.

But he had men crawling all over this house, all of whom would be thrilled to put a bullet through my brain.

And besides, I wasn't convinced there weren't higher-ups Gerald himself answered to. Something told me I’d only begun to understand this twisted rabbit hole I’d fallen into. And, sure, he kept a lot of information under lock and key, but if you wanted to get rid of a problem, once and for all, you had to take down the entire house of cards, not just the joker at the top.

So, while I could have fought him off before he wrenched my chin, held my head back, and took the blade of the knife to my face … I didn't.

Instead, I took it.

I clenched my jaw and gripped the armrests of the chair as he dragged the sharpened edge at a painstakingly slow speed down my forehead and through my left eyebrow, the flesh splitting as blood welled and beaded, dripping into my eye.

"I'll let you keep this," he said quietly, referring to said eye, as he worked with meticulous care as he sliced around the curve of the socket. "Wouldn't be much good to me if you lost it now, would you?"

He continued carving down the length of my cheek, the blade paving its way through my skin until he reached my jawline, where he stopped. Then he stood back to admire his handiwork, wiping the blood off the blade against the lapel of my suit jacket.

"Now, every time you look in the mirror, you'll be reminded to keep your fuckin' hands to yourself," he said, flipping the blade shut and slipping it into my breast pocket. "Next time, I won't be so gracious."