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Shade’s deeply buried darkness was rising to the surface today so he could finally get closure on the man who did him and his mother ugly. It didn’t matter that they shared the same blood.
As soon as the day was over, as soon as they loaded Oliveira into the furnace, as soon as the start button was pressed and the burners ignited, Shade would again bury the darkness back where it belonged. He would return to the loyal brother, loving father, and Chelle’s devoted ol’ man.
Shade’s, “Stop,” jerked Easy from his thoughts and pulled his attention back to the man now hanging by his arms from a chain. His bound feet were still touching the floor, but barely.
After moving the chair off to the side, Shade slowly circled his father with the tip of his knife pressed into the pad of his own left index fingertip while twisting the blade. Didn’t Shade realize he had pressed too hard and was bleeding?
“Maybe I shoulda hung you upside down instead. Shake some of that memory from your stubborn ass back into your forgetful brain.”
“Please, please… let me go. I’ll pay you whatever you want. Just set me free.”
Shade showed no reaction to the tearful plea of his own father. The white of the bastard’s eyes were on full display as the son he didn’t want to claim pressed the sharp tip of the blade to the hollow of his father’s throat. Shade turned the knife with just enough force to draw blood.
Shade collected the single red drop on the tip of his right index finger and raised both digits, one with his own blood and one with his father’s, until they were in Oliveira’s face. “See that? Same blood, me and you.” He leaned in until they were practically nose to nose and whispered, “Remember now, Dad?”
“No… No!”
Shade wiped the blood off on his father’s polo shirt, leaving red streaks behind. “No, you don’t remember? Or no, you don’t want it to be true?”
When Shade lifted the knife again, Oliveira flinched and frantically jerked away but all he did was lose his balance. He swung from his arms until he once again recovered his footing. His breathing was rapid and ragged and not a drop of blood remained in his face.
Easy expected him to totally lose his shit at any moment. Like piss and shit his pants and begin wailing like a bitch. He couldn’t say for sure that he wouldn’t do the same if he was in Oliveira’s place. Especially when Shade tucked his Buck knife into the collar of the man’s polo shirt and with one slice, exposed his torso. He then cut through both short sleeves until the fabric fell to the floor.
Shade proceeded to cut Oliveira’s pants off and then his boxers, leaving his father totally naked, exposed. Vulnerable. Maybe even humiliated, just like Shade had been when as a child he stood on the auction block.
But that wasn’t the only reason Shade did it. If he was going to do this lingchi thing, Easy realized Shade needed as much flesh exposed as possible.
If Oliveira didn’t know it before, if he thought he’d get out of this situation unscathed, he was now choking on reality, very aware he wouldn’t be walking out of that building. “Please… Listen… You have this all wrong.”
“Know it’s been a long time, Dad, so your memory might be a bit fuzzy, but you know how old I was when we got stolen from that parkin’ lot?”
“They weren’t supposed to… You weren’t supposed to…”
Taking his time, Shade dragged the sharp tip of his knife along the man’s skin as he moved behind Oliveira—from mid-stomach, along his ribs to his back—leaving a thin red line in its path. “Supposed to what? Be there?”
Since Easy was standing in front of Oliveira, he couldn’t see exactly what Shade was doing behind his father as his arms moved. But he could pretty much guess when the fucker screamed so loudly it made Easy wince.
“No! Please! This is barbaric,” the man shrieked.
Barbaric was adult men physically, mentally and sexually abusing children for their own pleasure. That was fucking barbaric.
“No, it’s karma,” Shade mumbled.
When a long rectangular bloody piece of flesh dropped to the plastic with a splat, Easy closed his eyes and swallowed hard to send the rising bile back down to his stomach.
“Julian! Please! Please, son!”
Easy jerked and his eyes flashed open. Julian?
Was that Shade’s real name? He always assumed it was Shawn since that was what Cassie called him when customers were around, just like when she called him Ethan. She worried their road names might be inappropriate for the business and was afraid they could possibly drive away customers. Easy and Shade never wore their cuts or used their road names in front of clients for that reason.
