AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A lot of fucking talk for a man that can’t take a hit.
“Get him up.” I wave the gun at Jorge. “Put him on the table and take off his clothes.”
Jorge reluctantly follows my demands until Guillermo is sprawled across the table on his back. I toss a roll of duct tape at him, “Hands and ankles to each of the table legs. Hands first.”
Jorge wraps the tape several times around Guillermo’s wrist before stretching it above his head and wrapping an equally generous amount of tape around the leg of the table. When I nod my approval, he repeats the process on the other wrist. Halfway through the first ankle, Guillermo wakes and begins to fight against the restraints.
Walking to the head of the table, I press my gun to his bruised temple causing him to wince. My words slow, and my voice deep when I lower myself to his ear, “You can fight, but just know that this will only be worse for you. And you have no idea how fucking bad it’s already going to be.”
He stills enough that Jorge is able to firmly secure both of his legs. Taking the tape from him, I tap the gun against his chest. “Now yours.”
Jorge shakes his head in defiance. “You can remove your fucking clothes, or I can. If you’re lucky, I’ll carve through enough of your skin when I do that you bleed out while I have a talk with your friend.”
Scrambling and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt and pants, he manages to undo them all and toss his clothes to the floor. His hands cup over his cock in attempt to shield himself.
“Have a seat.” I pull out a chair for him. “I don’t want you to miss any of this.”
I bind Jorge’s arms behind the chair and his ankles to the legs. Knowing that both men are fully secure and incapable of making a single move toward her, I turn my attention to Lucia.
thirty-one
LUCIA
Rafael turns to face me, and there is no denying the excitement in his eyes. But it is far outweighed by the look of concern on his face.
‘I’m okay.’ I mouth the words, giving him the permission he needs to continue.
He walks to the kitchen and returns with the knife block—an arsenal of tools for him. Mulling his fingers over the handles, clearly weighing his options of torture, he selects the short paring knife.
“How many times did you force yourself on her?” He glides the tip of the knife down the front of Guillermo’s throat.
“Once?” Raf flicks the tip of the knife through the skin on Guillermo’s chest creating a small, shallow wound. He flicks it again as he asks, “Twice?”
Guillermo’s nostrils flare and he grits his teeth as Rafael teasingly circles the table, “One mark of my knife, for every crack you left on her soul.”
Rafael takes his time before inflicting his next wound. The wait clearly as tortuous for Guillermo as the blade slicing through his skin.
“Are we getting close?” Rafael places the blade against his upper thigh. “Ten?”—flick—“Eleven?”—flick—“Twelve?”—flick—“Thirteen?”
Flick. Flick. Flick.
Blood oozes from each of the tiny cuts, Guillermo’s body slowly staining red and blood dripping down his sides as Rafael continues to count. With each increasing number Rafael says, more blood flows from Guillermo. Yet, I am the one turning red.
Rage courses through my veins. Pure unadulterated hatred fueling me with a need to inflict pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
“Fifty?” Raf plunges the short knife into the fat of Guillermo’s gut causing him to cry out in pain. Behind him, Jorge cringes with every movement of the knife in Raf’s hands.
“I don’t fucking know,” Guillermo shouts before turning his attention to me. “I fucked her. We all fucked her. The fucking slut couldn’t get enough of all the cocks we shoved into her. Her dirty cunt constantly dripped with the cum of every man that fucked her. Sometimes taking ten or twenty men in a night. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
“You don’t fucking talk to her,” Rafael seethes as he loses control. He rapidly plunges the knife into Guillermo over and over again. By the time Rafael stops, he’s easily added another twenty wounds to his chest and stomach.
And yet, still not enough to match the number of times he assaulted me.
Guillermo coughs and blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. Rafael drops the short paring knife to the floor and takes his time pulling the large, serrated bread knife from the wooden block.
“Come.” Rafael extends his arm toward me, enticing me to walk toward him. Fueled with anger, I want to move, but even with them both bound, I can’t seem to rid myself of the fear I feel upon seeing them.
“Come, little lamb. Let me show you how good it can feel to burn in hell.” When I reach Rafael, he pulls me close and tips my chin up to him. Staring down at me, his gaze is unwavering as he speaks.
