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"Do it, or I'll prove it to you right now."
It wouldn't be nearly enough pain, but it was certainly a start. I watched him reach for the knife under the supervision of my gun and place his other hand flat on the countertop.
He was shaking. Sweet. I bet he hadn't been shaking when he killed the four women.
Whether he pissed his pants or begged for it, he deserved no pity. Bored, I watched as he pressed the knife's edge against his finger and contorted his face in the anticipated pain.
I rolled my eyes, grabbed his hand holding the knife, and guided it. Take a swing, descending onto the countertop, and…
He cried out as a small pool of blood spread.
"Oh, come on, that was just a little finger. We're nowhere near done."
"How deranged are you?!" he shouted and held his hand tightly.
Me? Amused, I looked at the poor worm. "You've got it mixed up. And now I would advise you to continue with the next finger because there is no second demonstration."
He shook his head. He refused. But that ultimately did him no good because the weapon in my hand had enough persuasive power to make him reach for the knife again.
He probably still believed he would get out of it, and they would sew his fingers back on. He was just a little off the mark, but I wouldn't point that out to him as long as I could watch him mutilate himself.
It didn't offer the same satisfaction as a hunt through the dark forest, but I had no problem adapting to the circumstances. And if that meant he died in his kitchen tonight then so be it.
24
Amedea
By early dawn, I'd had enough of not hearing from Enzo all night. Worry gnawed at me. What if something had happened to him after I had taken Maria to safety? What if he had gotten into trouble and I returned to the house too late?
The Sián took me there quickly, but it wasn't until I saw the sunrise just behind the house that I knew I had made a small mistake in coming.
Instead of letting Fiero know and asking him for reinforcements, I decided to show up alone.
I bit my lower lip, pulled open the glove compartment, and took out Enzo's hidden gun.Hidden. The man wasn't as great at hiding things as he thought.
With a queasy feeling in my stomach, I got out and slowly made my way toward the house, always keeping an eye on my surroundings. Were there signs of a fight? Had the police shown up or had some other drama taken place?
I discovered nothing, but that hardly meant anything. When I arrived at the house's low porch, I dared to look through a window. Nothing. No sign that anyone was home at all.
Merda.
Should I ring the doorbell? Or sneak around the house, hoping to find the back door unlocked?
Stealthily, I glanced over my shoulder. The neighborhood still seemed to be fast asleep, so I set about circling the house.
Only when I could peek around the corner did I pause briefly and try to get an overview of the garden. It was more extensive than I had assumed, given the residential density in this settlement.
I was about to go to the back door when I spotted a shadow between the trees.
I almost had a heart attack; that's how scared I was. At the same moment, I scolded myself inwardly because it was exactly with this expectation, I had come here. To meet someone, preferably Enzo, because I didn't know how to stand up to a murderer and rapist.
Maria hadn't known and had been trapped in an ugly, toxic relationship with this man for months – our appearance had put her out of her misery. I had taken her to a women's shelter last night and made sure she had enough money for the future to raise her son without worry.
I bit my tongue as I slowly made my way through the garden until I got close enough to the shadow to realize with relief that it was indeed Vincenzo.
He was alive!
The guy had not razed him to the ground. An invisible burden fell from my shoulders, which I had not noticed before.
