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TJ looked back and forth between the two of us. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” we answered in unison.
“Jesus. Come on, then.”
“You really thought I was going to let you do this by yourself?”
He kicked the restrained Franco who was just starting to stir. “I could handle this fucker on my own.”
“It’s never wrong to have backup.”
He snorted. “Tell that to my father.”
“I have a lot of things I’d like to tell your father.”
“I bet you do.”
TJ and I tied a struggling Franco to a chair in the shed we reserved for nonranch business, not concerning ourselves with whether we cut off the circulation to his hands or feet. It hardly mattered since he wasn’t going to live much longer. He was still fighting when we finished as if he actually thought he could free himself.
TJ slapped him hard enough to make the chair wobble. When it settled into place, Franco remained still. He and TJ glared at each other, then Franco attempted to spit on TJ. That earned him a vicious punch to the gut.
“I wouldn’t keep that up if I were you,” I said. “It’s over. The faster you cooperate, the faster we can send you to your final reward.”
TJ snorted. “I’m looking forward to imagining you in the lower rungs of hell.”
Franco started struggling again, and the chair toppled over. He howled when he landed on the arm I’d shot.
TJ sneered down at him. “I suppose if you’d rather lie down, that’s acceptable. It’s just as easy to carve you up in that position, wouldn’t you agree, Rhys?” He looked over his shoulder at me, and I nodded my approval.
I’d told him I’d never tortured anyone, but I’d lied. I’d done what I had to do to get info more than once, but I’d never enjoyed it. That afternoon, I saw how gratifying it could be in the right setting. That thought should have terrified me, but it didn’t. I just kept watching my man work.
Once Franco had lost a few fingers and had the bullet extracted from his arm without the benefit of anesthesia or a skilled surgeon, he became more cooperative. It took less time than I expected for him to give up the names of his minions. I recorded the whole confession.
When it was done, TJ stood and looked down at him. “How long do you think I can draw this out, cousin?”
“D-draw it out. Y-you said you’d kill me quick.”
“I lied.”
TJ’s enjoyment had gone on long enough. It was time to end it. I stepped forward and laid a hand on TJ’s shoulder. “Look at me.”
When he did, I cupped his face. “Is torturing him more really going to make you feel better?”
He bit his lip as he glanced back at the now-sniveling Franco.
“Will hurting him now be good for you, or would you rather end him and then celebrate your victory?”
TJ held my gaze for the space of several breaths. Then he lifted his weapon and fired a series of shots through Franco’s chest. The gun clattered to the floor, and he pulled me into his arms.
“I love you, Rhys.”
“I love you too. I didn’t think we’d be confessing this by your cousin’s corpse, but somehow it does seem fitting.”
I felt him smile against my lips before he kissed me.
31
TJ
