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“No one was supposed to be there,” Jeremy said. “It was after closing.”
“Ohhhhh,” Screw said. He dropped Jeremy’s head and paced away, throwing his arms up in the air. “Well, shit, guys. He didn’t think anyone was there. He never planned to murder Viper and injure Jazz. He just wanted to destroy our fucking property. Well, this changes everything.”
From the wall opposite Copper and Zach, Gumby snickered. Screw shot him a wink. He’d been floored when Copper invited his lover into the box. Had Gumby been Jazz’s boyfriend and not his, Copper never would have allowed it. He’d done it as a favor to Screw. One which he was extremely grateful for. Not only because Gumby deserved this justice too, but his presence settled Screw.
How in such a short time, he’d come to require not one but two people’s presence in his life, he’d never know, but he was done questioning it. Done trying to return the gift life had given him.
“She’s hurt?” Jeremy asked.
Screw laughed as disbelief washed through him. Was the fucker for real? “Seriously? You’re worried about her now? You stashed weapons at her house, you ratted out her friends at a CDMC party, and you blew up her fucking place of business. Yesterday you told me you hoped her psycho stepbrother cut her to bits. But you’re worried she got hur—oh, wait a minute.” Screw snapped his fingers as the light bulb went off.
“You really did want in her panties, didn’t you? I guess Gumby was wrong. Gotta admit, he was convincing. I started to wonder if you’d been after me. But you wanted the girl after all. That why you were always doing shit like shoveling her driveway?” He laughed again. “Cute, Jeremy, really cute.” He circled behind the chair they’d positioned the bastard in, bent down, and spoke at the man’s ear while keeping his gaze on Gumby. “The thing is, asshole, you never stood a chance of getting with Jazz. She doesn’t want a pathetic little boy. She wants a man. Which is what she has.” He fisted Jeremy’s hair again, this time turning him to face Gumby. “You’ve met, Gumby. The sexy fucker over there with the glasses. Well, when we’re done here, he and I are gonna take Jazz home. To my house. And we’re gonna fuck her. And we’re gonna fuck each other. Then the three of us? Well, we’re gonna live happily fucking ever after. And you? Well, you’re gonna die, Jeremy.”
Dropping Jeremy’s head, he circled around front again, gripping the arms of the chair. He shook the thing, making Jeremy groan as his battered body jostled and banged against the chair’s metal frame.
“There’s just one thing left to decide, Jer. Hey, look at me.” He smacked Jeremy’s face again with a sharp open-palmed slap. The wannabe’s head rolled across his shoulders, but he managed to keep his bruised eyes open. “You wanna go out quick, or slow with a ton of fucking pain? Now, personally I’d like to be the one to decide, but I’m actually in a pretty good mood. Probably because of all that fucking I told you I was gonna get to later. So I’ll let you pick. Quick and painless—relatively speaking, or slow, sweet, torture?”
Jeremy mumbled, “Quick.”
“Well that’s no fun for me, but all right.” He blew out an exaggerated sigh. Chances were, he was getting too much enjoyment out of torturing the guy. It couldn’t be healthy, but that was the beauty of the box. Down here, Screw and his club could exact revenge, rid the world of filth, and watch the evidence slide down the large drain in the center of the room. Then he could walk up the stairs and emerge into the light, leaving the darkness where it belonged. In a ten by ten room under the ground.
“Now that we got that out of the way, I’ll ask you one more time. Did the Chrome Disciples sanction the hit on the diner?” He asked the question slowly as though speaking to a child.
“No.”
“Huh? What was that?”
“No,” Jeremy muttered.
“Gonna need you to expand on that answer, Jer.”
“Water?”
“What’d you say? You need some water? Sure, that’s no problem.”
Screw motioned to Gumby who picked up on his intention immediately. At first, it freaked him out how in tune they were, but now their near ability to read each other’s minds was a comfort. Gumby walked over, handing Screw the end of the hose. Then he returned to his spot near the wall and cranked the spigot all the way.
With a grin that probably made him look like a madman, Screw pressed down on the stream with his thumb. He aimed it at Jeremy, hitting the guy in the face at full blast with the icy spray.
Jeremy sputtered and flopped around in the chair like a fish on land. When he nearly fell on the ground, choking and coughing, Screw nodded to Gumby who cut the water.
