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“Fuck off,” Dirk told him. “This bitch is mine for the night. I paid for her.”
“Doesn’t look like she’s interested,” Hunter said from the back of the car.
“What the fuck areyoudoing here?” Dirk asked, voice trembling at the end.
There was determination in his eyes the moment he finally realized the situation he’d found himself in, when he quickly moved back over to the door and reached out for the handle. Before he could grab it, Dimitri was on him. He wrapped his arm around his neck and squeezed, effectively cutting his air off.
The fucker wouldn’t be able to call out for help and would pass out if Dimitri kept going, which I knew he wouldn’t. We all wanted Dirk to know exactly what was happening to him, the whole time it was happening.
Ruby stood off to the side, her eyes wide as the scene unfolded before her.
As Dirk's strength began to wane, Hunter approached them, the zip ties in his hands a clear sign of his intent. Dimitri released Dirk, and his body thudded to the ground. With a knee across his neck and his shoulder bearing down, Dimitri knelt, restraining the assmunch. When he resumed struggling, Hunter used his knee to press down on his lower back. Then he quickly fastened his ankles and wrists together using the plastic restraints.
Once he was secured, they both tossed him in the trunk of the car.
Which was where I wanted him to be.
After my experience of being transported across two provinces in the trunks of several cars, I felt like it only seemed right.
Dirk deserved a little pay back.
Once we had him secured in the trunk, I gave Ruby the package and sent her off in a cab. Then we all hopped in and drove on the back roads, meandering our way through the countryside. The whole while he was screaming at the top of his lungs to be let out of the trunk. Hunter taking the bumpiest route so that he would be tossed around in the back probably didn’t help the situation.
Either way, the music was turned up and I was in the passenger seat considering all the things I wanted to do to him.
Did I want it to be quick?
Should it be slow and painful, until I finally end his suffering?
ChapterForty-Two
HARLEIGH
About an hour later,we finally arrived at an old butcher shop just outside of the city that the Reapers owned for an occasion such as this. The family who owned the business lost interest in it when their father was killed by a drunk driver. We gave them fair market value and paid another meat shop to sell product at a flea market labelled as if it came directly from our shop. Then when it came to inspections, we had connections in the health department.
If one of them actually showed up, we also had an excellent cover story, and they would never find anything.
We had thought of almost everything when it came to not being caught. We designed this room in the back, which wasn’t included in the schematic and was well hidden from prying eyes. We left the hooks coming down from the ceiling to hang sides of beef from, or to scare the hell out of them. On a couple of occasions, we found them useful to hold our captives in place. The walls and floors were painted completely white to enhance the effect, and the cement floor had multiple drains for quick cleanup.
When I was really feeling exceptionally inventive during an interrogation, I would use a blow torch to heat up metal-to cauterize wounds so the person didn't bleed out before we were done with them. When they couldn't take anymore, I hooked up a dialysis machine and drained their blood through the grates in the floor
Everything was very efficient and seemed to work well for us. It had been a sound investment, but sometimes it wasn’t as convenient as our other locations. The logistics of kidnapping someone and driving to a secondary location tended to increase the probability of getting caught. No one had horseshoes up their asses like some of those serial killers who had been pulled over with dead bodies in their vehicles.
Sure, we had charisma, but not that much.
With the methods we used, if we went further, we'd probably hear their confession to assassinating the Prime Minister. There was only so much torture a person could withstand. I highly doubted a conniving bastard like Dirk was in the group of people who could compartmentalize enough to ignore the pain being inflicted.
Eventually they all spilled their guts.
I kept that thought in mind as we parked the car inside the shop. There was a large garage door used for shipments which worked perfectly for us to hide the sedan. Hunter and Dimitri hopped out and both of them went around the back to the trunk. I followed them a moment later, standing back to watch as they extracted asshole from the trunk.
They lifted Dirk out of the back kicking and screaming. His disheveled appearance almost sent me into a fit of giggles.
And I didn’t giggle.
“In the event that I haven’t made myself clear, this is the end of the road for you,” I advised him.
“You don’t have it in you to kill me,” he responded.
