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Muffled screaming and banging come from the back of the SUV. I catch Carl’s eyes in the rearview mirror and smile. “Turn on the radio.”
He nods and turns the dial, sending smooth jazz into the cab of the car. I inhale deeply and smile, pulling at the edge of my black leather gloves and removing them from my hands.
I get lost in the slow music the rest of the drive until we are pulling into the driveway at home. The screaming has finally stopped. I exit the car, then walk to the back and open the hatch. Hugo lies still with his eyes closed, cloth gag in his mouth and both hands and feet roped together.
“Get him inside while I change,” I instruct Carl. He grins and hikes Hugo over his shoulder.
As he makes his way up the steps, I shout softly behind him. “Keep it quiet. My delicate flower is sleeping.” Another nod is all he gives me before pushing through the door.
I walk back to my door of the SUV and pull out the white T-shirt and jeans I keep hidden inside, just in case. I unbutton my nice red shirt and slip it off, then do the same with my slacks. I hurry and replace them with my extra clothes, then slide my gloves back in place and close the door, walking inside barefoot.
I close the front door softly behind me and wait a minute to make sure Charlie hasn’t heard me and gotten up. When I feel confident she’s still asleep, like Lucas told me, I slip into the room that is used specifically for these issues.
Hugo is slumped down the metal chair with his head resting on its matching table. Carl stands behind him with his arms crossed in front of him.
“Watch the door. If Luke or Jules come, let them in. If you see Charlie, let me know. She’s taken in enough today; she doesn’t need to see this.”
“Got it.” He steps out of the room and closes the door, leaving only me and Hugo.
I circle the table and pick his head up by his hair before dropping it, letting it hit the cold metal table with force. He groans in pain as blood drips from his nose.
“Good morning, junkie,” I spit.
Hugo isn’t a Moreno by blood, but he’s been working for them for years. He’s the only one who’s ever gotten close enough to the cartel to know a name, but he won’t speak. When I found him at my warehouse, my blood ran cold. I know he was sent to get the layout and any other important information so they could use it to bring me down, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence it happened the same day I saw Omar.
Unfortunately for him, I have nothing to lose at this point. I know fucking him up and sending him away is a gamble, but I have a message to send. If he wants information on me and my family, I’ll give it to him.
“Tell me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you right now,” I bite at him.
He laughs, showing his rotted teeth and black gums. “Kill me and they’ll kill you.”
I hunch in front of the table and plant my elbows in front of him. “Fair enough. Instead, I think I’ll just send you with a message to deliver.”
His eyes widen when he realizes his tactics won’t work on me. Most people fear the cartel and what they’re capable of, but I don’t. Everyone has a weakness, and I happen to be the best at picking them out.
I walk to the door and tap on it with the back of my gloved knuckle. Carl opens it and extends a tray to me with lemon juice and a razor amongst a few tools. Vice grips, bolt cutters, and a hammer sit perfectly lined on the tray, and it makes me happy. Sometimes torture is better than the actual kill.
I walk back to Hugo and set the tray on the table in front of him. He examines all of the instruments and laughs at the lemon juice. “Making lemonade?”
I laugh with him. A deep and genuine laugh. “That’s the only thing to do with lemon juice, isn’t it?” When he sees my smile never falls, his face becomes pale.
I grab the razor and start making small cuts all over his hands and fingers as he sends bloodcurdling screams into the room. “Come on, Hugo,” I try to soothe him. “Just tell me what you were doing and I’ll let you go.” I grin, then pop the cap of the juice and splash it over every cut.
He screams louder for a second before falling quiet again. “Is that all you got?”
I pick up the bolt cutters and pace the room for a second. I don’t want to kill him, but I want to show him who he’s fucking with. I walk to the door and tap it again. Carl walks in and tilts his head.
“Hold his hand.”
Carl doesn’t question me; he already knows what I’m going to do. Hugo starts squirming and trying to hop out of his seat. Carl throws one hand on his shoulder to hold him in place, while using his other hand to untie the ropes and spread his finger over the edge of the table.
I grab each finger on his right hand individually with the bolt cutters. Squeezing the handles lightly, a satisfying crunch rings into the room as Hugo screams. The blades slice through his flesh like butter.
Blood pools on the table, dripping down to the floor. “Look at the mess you’ve made.”
I look at his face. Drool and snot run down his cheeks and chin as he sobs weakly. “T-t-they’re g-g-goin-g-g to k-k-kill you-u-u,” he stutters.
“Tell them I’m waiting.” I curl my lips and spit in his face before clipping the rest of his fingers off easily.
