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Logically, I should try to run.
But logic doesn’t exist on Devil’s Night.
Logic is the last thing on my mind as I let him ravage me with an intensity I’ve never experienced before.
Maybe I’ll never experience it again.
And I know, I just know that he probably won’t let me go.
And maybe I don’t want him to let me go either.
My thoughts are reinforced when he releases my lips, and whispers against them, “I decided to keep you, after all.”
10
KINGSLEY
Iroll my sleeves up to my elbows while I approach the two unconscious scums hanging from the ceiling by their wrists.
“Are you sure you want your hands dirtied, rich boy?” Nicolo taunts from his position in the corner, lighting a cigar and crossing his legs at the ankles.
“Fuck off, Nic. This has nothing to do with you.” I reach for the water hose and spin the handle to the highest pressure.
“On the contrary, this has everything to do with me, considering my boys were able to find you these two.”
“Which you’ve already been compensated for with money your companies don’t deserve.” I tilt my head to the side. “You’re not doing me a favor. This is a business transaction.”
“Shouldn’t you be a bit more grateful? Not only am I letting you use my basement for your small fetish, but I’m also going against Bruno by catching these two in the span of…” He stares at his Rolex. “Twenty hours.”
Right after I watched that footage at the end of which Aspen came out with a bloodied face, I forwarded it to Nicolo and told him to find them. Of course, he’s a cat who never hunts without a purpose, so his condition was obviously more money for his company.
I didn’t even pretend to manipulate him into reducing the amount. Any negotiation on my part would’ve propelled him to perform a sloppy job. A slow job.
So I gave him the exact amount he asked for. Thus, the quick result.
I spent the whole day in court, defending a mentally ill man who murdered his own parents in cold blood twenty years after they physically and emotionally abused him.
And I enjoyed every second of getting him the ‘not guilty’ verdict and rubbing it in the prosecutor’s face. That tool stood no chance, because I take abuse by parents seriously, personally, and handle it mercilessly. The media can call me a savage devil all they like, but just because these people gave someone life, I don’t consider them above reproach. Many of them are flawed humans who should have been made infertile, and if they need to die for their sins, so be it.
That’s why I barely felt any sense of loss when Benjamin Shaw passed away. That old man finally met his end with a heart attack while he was in his extravagant Jacuzzi. He drowned just like my mother did. Irony is the pettiest bitch that way.
But even with the endorphins I got in court, I couldn’t chase away the needle-like sensation that pricked at the back of my head or the tightening in my chest at the thought of who I left back in my house.
I called Martha twice during the only recesses I got, and apparently, Aspen spent most of the day sleeping. I contemplated sending Dr. Werner to check on her again, but the thought of him touching her while I wasn’t there quickly erased the blasphemous thought.
She’s probably recuperating all the lost hours of sleep deprivation. It’s no secret that she spends all-nighters at the office more often than not and has an incurable workaholic soul.
The only reason I haven’t gone back home to check on her myself is the phone call I got from Nicolo announcing that he’d found the owners of that unidentified car. He could have been lying, of course, and picked up two random men, but the quick background check he did on them indicated they were thugs who’d spent time in the same prison as Bruno.
Ignoring Nicolo’s presence and words, I direct the hose at one of the men, who has a blond beard and the build of a wrestler, and turn it to wide open. He gasps awake, his eyes unfocused, and guttural breaths leave his parted mouth. I give him a break to wake his leaner friend with a nose and lips that are too big for his bland face.
He rouses with a start, jolting in his binds like an animal taken for slaughter.
“What the…what the fuck?” blond beard drawls, still dazed.
“You put your filthy hands on someone you’re not supposed to touch, that’s what the fuck.” I raise my fist and punch him so hard, the crunching of bones echoes in the air as he reels back in his bindings.
I do it again and again until the sound of breaking bones is the only thing I hear and the metallic stench of blood lingers in the air. The red splatters on my shirt, arms, and face, but I don’t stop.
