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Six hours I sat outside of her door before giving up. I’d gotten here and banged on the door for a solid fifteen minutes, but she wouldn’t answer. I knew she was in there, I’d pulled up the building security feed on my phone and watched her run into her apartment less than thirty minutes after leaving the club.
I sat on the floor next to the door for six hours in the hopes that she would let me in, but she never did. I texted her a couple of times, but she never replied.
Killian called me twenty minutes ago, telling me there was another lead in Chicago and we’re flying out tonight––just him and I. Now I’m standing in the hallway outside of her door again, with my travel bag, trying to get her to answer before I have to leave.
Me
Liv, I’ve gotta go out of town for a few days, please just text me back so I know you’re okay.
I wait several minutes then let out a frustrated breath before trying again.
Me
Please, mo ghrá, just one text.
Liv
I’m fine.
Holy fuck, I’m so relieved she responded, but I’m pissed it’s only two words. I contemplate pounding on her door again, but decide against it. She clearly needs some time, so I’ll give her it for as long as I’m in Chicago, but when I’m back, she won’t be able to hide. I’ll kick her damn door in if I have to.
Me
I’ll be gone a few days, if you need anything call Connor or one of the girls. I’ll see you soon, mo ghrá.
* * *
My head isn’t in the game. Four days we’ve been here looking for answers, trying to track down this lead. I’m so out of sorts I’ve lost total control twice, my demon battled and won out, and now because of it, Killian won’t let me continue. Now he’s making me sit in the back of the room like a child while he works the guy tied to the chair in front of us.
I watch as he tips the guy’s head back and pulls out one of his teeth.
“You know, if you don’t give us answers soon, the only thing you’ll be able to eat will be through a straw… come on, Diego, give us what we’re looking for.”
I watch as Killian walks over to the table, laying the pliers down and grabbing two bottles of water. Glancing back at Diego, I notice the little flicker in his eyes––he thinks he’s getting a break, he thinks he’s getting some water. Fool. The second bottle is for me, and little does he know Killian grabbed a small blade when he picked up a bottle. He’ll use it to make a small incision close to an artery, ensuring he bleeds out slowly.
He smirks at Diego and stops next to me, handing over a bottle of water, and he gives me a chin lift in question. He wants to know if I’m good to have a go. Grabbing the water from him, I shake my head before drinking half of it down.
All I can think of is Liv. We called Connor this morning before we started on Diego. I asked how Liv was, but he said nobody had seen her since Sunday night after leaving the club. The girls tried to get her to come out, they even camped out in my apartment in the hopes that they would catch her leaving, but it doesn’t look like she’s been outside of her apartment in four days.
“Kill, lets fucking get this over with, we need to go home.” He doesn’t say anything, just nods and hands me his water bottle before walking to Diego, bending down so he’s eye level with him.
He uses the blade to make small incisions on each of his forearms, making sure he punctures the vein. “Last chance, tell us what we want to know or we’re just gonna let you bleed out right here.”
Diego, crazy son of a bitch, actually laughs in Kill’s face. “Please, I’m not stupid enough to think you’re going to let me live, you’re going to let me bleed out anyway.”
I raise my eyebrows as my brother turns to look at me. I smile and get up, walking to the table, and I pick up the pliers Kill used to rip this guy’s teeth out, some gauze to pack his wounds to stem the bleeding a little, and a small blow torch. This fucker thinks he’s going to die easy, he’s wrong.
I throw the gauze and bandages to Kill who starts to pack and wrap Diego’s arms as I down the rest of the water and half of another bottle. Torture is thirsty work.
“You’re looking a little worried there, man, and you’re right to be. Ronan here, he lives for this shit. You should of just told us what we wanted.” Kill laughs and takes a seat in the chair I just vacated.
I check the blow torch is working only a few inches from his face, and I see the flicker in his eyes, I see the moment he realises he’s fucked. I didn’t need to check the torch, I knew it was working before we got him in here––I make a point of checking all weapons before I bring a subject to a kill room.
I bend, setting the blow torch on the floor, but I don’t straighten, and instead, I use my now empty hand to prise his fingers open, holding out his pinky on his left hand. I place the pliers just below the top knuckle and squeeze. Diego does his best not to scream, I’ll give him that, but I’m only just getting started, and the longer he holds out, the more I’ll enjoy it when he does finally scream… and he will.
Giving him a moment to catch his breath, I watch as the blood seeps out of the end of his finger, and my demon is ecstatic.
“You have nine other digits on your hands alone, Diego, each one has two knuckles, that’s eighteen more cuts––plus, I still have one more knuckle on that little finger there. I know I can keep going, but can you?” I watch for something from him, anything, but he gives nothing away. He’s laser focused on controlling his reaction to the pain. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t in such a hurry to get this shit done.
