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“Appreciate that,” I say and Thomas ducks his head, looking relieved. It’s short lived because I say, “Now, where’s Andler? We want him more than we want you. But we can’t seem to find him.”
Thomas darts his eyes between me and Red and I step in front of my boy, not wanting Thomas to look at him at all. Thomas looks up at me but doesn’t say anything. Sighing, because I knew it would come to this, but hoping to avoid it for Red’s sake, I step closer to him. “Tell me what I want to know, Thomas.”
He shakes his head and I flex my hands, knowing what comes next. My fist flies to his mouth and it takes him a second to absorb the pain, but when he does, he curses loudly. Blood drips from his mouth and he tries to wipe it on his shoulder, but I slap his face in the opposite direction, halting his movement. He groans and flinches back when I raise my fist again. “Okay, wait. I’ll tell you.”
“How will I know you’re not lying?”
“I’m not! I wouldn’t! He texted me his location. Check my phone under the name Beth. Please! Just let me go!” He drops his head and starts crying. I feel disgust curl in my gut. I can only imagine how many of the people he drugged cried just like this and he didn’t give a fuck.
Turning to my boy to gauge his reaction, I see his face is red and contorted in anger, his hands fisted at his side. He takes a step forward, but stops himself and looks at me, pleading with me to do something. He needn’t worry about that, something will be done to this fucker.
Walking over to Thomas, I find his phone in his pocket and scroll through, looking for Beth. When I find it, I open the text and see a group of coordinates and the message “Meet me here in ten days.” That’s not fucking happening. The message was sent four days ago, so we have some time to get there and take care of the other fucker.
I take a picture of the message with my phone, then drop his phone and stomp on it, not wanting Andler to be able to track his location. I want him to think Thomas is in the wind, coming to meet him in the next week or so. Thomas makes a strangled noise and I look back at him with a smirk. “Don’t worry. You won’t need that anymore.”
Realization dawns on him and I relish the fear in his eyes. It feels good to know he’s at my mercy and there’s nothing and no one that will save him.
Thomas looks over at Red and tries to plead with him. “Please. I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I … uh …I …didn’t want to do it. I was … forced. Yeah, I was forced into it.”
Before I know he even moved, Red comes over and slaps Thomas across the face. Then he balls up his fist and decks him in the nose, shattering the bone. “You lying piece of shit! You knewexactlywhat you were doing! Look at me!” When Thomas raises his eyes—after his pathetic ass cried for a few seconds—he looks at Red with a miserable expression. “You tried to take me and you failed. I’m the one that got away and you have to pay for what the fuck you did!” Again, that light clicks in Thomas’s eyes and he shakes his head, wiggling around in his seat.
Irritated with his pitiful display, I pull out my Sig and shoot Thomas in the knee. Red yelps and Thomas thrashes and tips the chair over, screaming loud enough to wake the dead as his blood starts to pool on the floor. Red’s face turns green and he backs away quickly, bumping into the wall, eyes wide.
Calmly, I walk over to Thomas and place a hand on his knee, squeezing it between my hand. He screams and yells, trying to dislodge my grip, but he can’t move much while he’s zip tied. I’m not worried about the bullet being found, since it fragmented on contact and there won’t be enough of it to identify anything.
Thomas screams and screams and I let it go on, knowing I can do worse, but I need to take care of Red. He looks like he might vomit any minute and I need him to wait until we can get somewhere they can’t collect DNA evidence.
When I’m sure he’s suffered enough, I let Thomas go, wiping the blood on his pants. I still have need of these gloves. Can’t get rid of them until Andler is in the ground. “While I’d like to stay longer, I have a flight to catch and another bitch-ass trafficker to kill.”
Thomas continues to scream and thrash, but I don’t care about any of that. I walk over to where Red is standing and grab the duct tape. Before I walk back to Thomas, I tip his head up until his wide eyes meet mine. “You’ll be okay, baby boy. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”
Wetting his lips, Red whispers, “I know, Daddy.” I give him a quick, hard kiss that he returns eagerly, then walk over to Thomas. He’s stopped his thrashing, laying on his side, crying and praying.
“Too late for praying, bitch,” I tell him, pulling his chair up and slapping him on the back of the head. The clear plastic bag I have stashed in my pocket will make his death clean, but not painless. Placing the bag around his head, I quickly follow it up with the duct tape, wrapping it around his neck to secure the bag in place. Then I step in front of him and watch.
He tries to hold his breath, but it doesn’t work for long. Thomas exhales and tries to inhale fresh air, but there’s nothing for him to breathe in. He flails in his chair, eyes wide with panic. “Turn away, boy,” I say over my shoulder and hear movement behind me. I trust that Red turned away, but don’t look to confirm, I just keep my eyes on Thomas. For Red, I want to watch him take his last breath to confirm he is dead.
It takes longer than one might think. Thomas is a strong, persistent fucker, I’ll give him that. But he can’t fight the Grim Reaper. His struggling slows down and he tries to pull in one more shuddering breath before he goes limp, face a sickly shade of blue. I wait another minute to make sure he’s really dead and when there’s no movement, I make my way over to Red and turn him around, pulling him into my arms.
“You okay, sweet boy?”
“Fine,” he squeaks. “I’m okay. It’s just … so much …” He swallows roughly, then shakes his head. “So much blood. And so loud.”
“We can talk when we get out of here, baby. Let me get the fire going while you get in the car. I’ll be right there.” I give him the key to the car and press my lips to his to give him some strength and Red walks shakily to the car.
Before I douse the place in gas, I move around and wipe down everything we touched. It’s not much and we wore gloves, but I don’t want to leave anything to chance. The doorknob, the chair, the bag, and the wall behind the door. Wanting his body to burn hot and fast, I dump gas over Thomas’s body, then walk around the room, adding gas to every corner so the fire will burn evenly. Then I walk backward towards the door, making a path that leads from the body in the middle of the room.
When I stop outside, I see Red standing by the car, matches in hand. I told him to get in the car to wait, but he needs to do this. He needs to close this chapter to help him heal. I wave him over and he hurries over, looking small despite his lean, but muscular body. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I know you said—”
I cut him off with a quick kiss. “It’s fine, boy. Set this shit on fire so I can take you back to the hotel and give you a bath.”
“Yes, Daddy. Thank you.” He moves past me and stops in front of the door, just staring inside. I don’t rush him—he probably needs a moment to figure out how he feels about what he’s about to do. His break doesn’t take long. He takes a deep breath, strikes a match on the side of the box, and tosses it through the open door.
The flame is immediate and Red stumbles back into my arms. Then he laughs. I back us away from the growing inferno and he laughs and laughs until his laughter turns into sobs. His legs go out from under him and I hold him while he cries, releasing the pain and fear from his system. The flames are over taking the cabin and I move us until we’re flush against the car where the fire isn’t so hot. And I hold my boy until he feels like himself again.
Chapter Eighteen
Red
