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Bile rising up in my throat as everything he put my friend through came to the forefront of my mind. This sick fuck actually thought I was here for some sort of sordid booty call.
“Eww, not fucking likely asshole,” I gagged, barely able to conceal my disgust as I leant against the table that lined the far wall, arms crossed against my chest. “I wouldn’t touch you even if you were the last man on earth. I’d rather be injected with Ebola and run my chances.”
“Such a shame, I could have had a lot of fun with you,” Kyle snickered crudely as he licked his lips. The hunger evident in his eyes, made my skin crawl. “A girl like you could fetch me a pretty penny.”
“You wouldn’t know how to handle me,” I spat back trying to control my anger, picking at my fingernails as I feigned disinterest.
I knew from listening to Stryker and Damon that Kyle liked to goad you. He knew how to push buttons, but I was better. I wasn’t about to let him get the better of me.
“Then tell me, why are you here?” He asked as he studied me for a minute. “They think sending a girl in here will get me talking?”
“I just want one thing from you,” I state, deciding to be straight forward. I didn’t know how long I had before someone showed up, I wasn’t fooling myself thinking that my family wouldn’t be out looking for me. It was just a question of how long did I have before they found me.
“Yeah and what's that?” I guess curiosity got the best of him as he leaned forward.
Picking up the knife from the table, I walked over to him. His eyes lasered on to the knife as I flicked it between my fingers. Bending down between his legs, I watched as his adams apple bobbed and sweat started to bead on his forehead. I had to swallow the vomit that threatened to rise as the smell of his breath hit my nose.
“I want you to tell me where your father would run off to,” I reply, a saccharine smile painted across my face as I ran the back of the blade up and down the side of his face.
“And why would I tell you that,” His voice wavered as I “accidently” nick his cheek.
“Because if you don’t,” I paused. Looking him in the eye then down to his groin. The sicko was fucking harder then a concrete bollard. The tent he was pitching in his crusty pants was only a testament to how messed up he truly was. “The next cut I make won’t be an accident.”
I watched as he tried to call my bluff. I’m not afraid of blood, and I’m certainly no stranger to maiming a guy's junk. In fact, given the chance, it’s the first place I go for when interrogating the scum my family brings to this place.
