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We pull up to the warehouse an hour later. My hands are shaking but not from fear or anger. I’m shaking because of the anticipation.
Luke and I get out of the car and walk around to the trunk. I pop it open, finding Matteo still passed out.
“Wake up, shithead. You’re gonna miss all the fun.” I grab Matteo by one arm and let Luke take the other.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Luke points out. “We’ll have to cauterize the wound if you want him to live a little longer.”
“Let’s get on with it then.”
We drag Matteo through the warehouse to the same spot he raped Aspen, and I killed his uncle. Pauli’s mangled body is still there, rotting away on the chair where I left him.
My men have set up a new torture chair for Matteo, far enough away to avoid the pungent odor of rotting flesh but close enough for him to see his uncle’s dead body.
We make quick work of restraining Matteo to the bolted-down chair. My hands are not shaking anymore. I’m calm, collected… and so fucking ready for this.
“Let’s wake his ass up before we cauterize the wound.” I grin.
Luke nods and starts getting a syringe of epinephrine ready while I light up the compact flamethrower to heat the end of a crowbar. The metal turns from its dull gray color to a glowing orange just in time. Luke shoves the needle into Matteo’s chest and injects him with the drug.
Matteo’s reaction is almost instantaneous. His eyes fly open, and he sucks in an audible breath like he has been underwater, and his head has just breached the surface.
“There you are. Welcome back to hell.” My words have barely left my mouth when I press the glowing end of the crowbar to Matteo’s bullet wound. The smell of burned flesh fills the air, and I watch in delight as his skin melts into his ripped jeans.
“It’s gonna be a pain getting those pants off now,” I say more to myself since no one can actually hear me over Matteo’s cries. He screams so loud, I’m sure anyone within a one-mile radius can hear.
I pull the bar away from his mangled leg and drop it on the ground beside us. Matteo’s pained cries turn into pitiful whimpers while I look over the tools and gadgets my men have laid out for me on the table.
“How about we pull some teeth? That will be fun.” I can’t help the corners of my mouth from tipping up.
“I’ll make sure his mouth stays open,” Luke says and grabs the baseball bat from the table. I take my time picking out a pair of pliers before turning back around to face Matteo.
Luke stands behind him, pulling the wedged baseball bat in Matteo’s mouth. Smirking like the villain in a Disney movie, I close the distance between me and my target.
“Let’s start with these.” I tap the bottom teeth with the pliers.
Matteo’s eyes are wide open, bloodshot, and full of fear. He knows what’s coming. Pain and death.
“I warned you. I told you what would happen if you touched her, and I always stand by my word.” Turning the pliers in my hand, I open and grab one of his bottom teeth and start pulling.
Being so close to his face, I’m thankful for the bat muffling Matteo’s gurgled scream as I wiggle and pull his teeth out one by one. He is going to make my ears hurt otherwise.
I take my time extracting all the front teeth I can reach with the bat shoved in his mouth. There is so much swelling and blood that Matteo is unrecognizable.
“I’m bored with this. Let’s find something new.” I throw the pliers aside and wipe my blood-covered hands on my shirt.
Luke pulls the bat out of Matteo’s mouth, and his head instantly lulls to the side as if he’s lost his strength to even hold himself up.
“Is he dead?” Luke questions casually from behind him.
“I hope not. I have so much more planned for him.” So, so much.
7
ASPEN
“Spread her legs. I want to watch the cum drip out of her and onto the ground.” Matteo’s voice rings in my ears, but my limbs are too heavy to struggle against the person grasping them. I try with all my might to open my eyes, but there must be boulders holding them shut because no matter how hard I try to lift them, they don’t budge.
“You’re getting this on video, right?” I hear Matteo say.
In my mind, I’m screaming, telling them to stop, struggling with all my might, but all that seems to escape my lips is a groan. Someone laughs, and the sound is like nails on a chalkboard.
“Fuck, yeah, I’m getting this. Can you imagine how livid Rossi is going to be when he sees this video? His queen all used up, our cum dripping out of her,” a voice I don’t recognize says, and I feel myself drifting to another place, a place where no one can hurt me.
