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I can’t hear what Travis says, but Jake nods to himself. “The fucker you left in the middle of the hall. How’d he go?”
This pause is longer as Travis explains. Whatever he says, Jake starts to smile for a second before he schools his expression and thanks his friend. He glances at the body before settling his gaze on me. I can tell he’s nervous, probably unsure of what answer I’m hoping for.
“He used a chokehold first to get his head at the right angle, crushing his windpipe. He was already suffocating when he ended it with the snap. Travis let him exist like that for about 30 seconds before he had to finish and continue clearing the hall.”
“So…?” I ask, not entirely sure what a lot of that means.
“So, the windpipe would have been excruciating. It also would have made it impossible to breathe, but he still would have been desperately trying. Between the pain and the panic, he was in hell. He knew he was going to die and he knew there wasn’t a thing he could do to save himself.”
“Good.” I step over the body, refusing to give the piece of shit another thought. “When it’s time for me to do that to DuGray, will you tell me how I can make it hurt?”
Jake tenses, that concern from before returning, but a few seconds of us looking into each other’s eyes has him relaxing enough to answer. “Yeah, little one. I’ll tell you how to make him hurt.”
They have DuGray on his knees in the center of my concrete personal hell. His arms are tied behind his back, the lower half of his head wrapped in duct tape. Even with a shirt on, I can tell which of his arms has been injured, the shoulder grotesquely out of place and the elbow incorrectly shaped.
I drag my eyes away from him, needing a second. I scan the area and realize he hasn’t fully cleaned it since I was here. I suppose he didn’t need to yet, since he never replaced me. There’s still a rope hung over one of the rafters. The one they used when they made me play the crawling game. It helps me orient myself. Put things into perspective. I look down at DuGray again before a laugh bursts out of my mouth.
All four heads snap up, everyone’s eyes on me. DuGray makes a growly sound behind his gag when he sees me. At least a dozen emotions flicker across his expression before it settles on one - rage. The noises from behind his tape pick up as he tries to lurch forward. Travis’s hand darts out, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him back. It’s satisfying to watch. How many times did DuGray make me fall into line by doing exactly that to me?
“Can you drag him forward just a little?” I ask them, pointing to the spot where I want him. “To right there?”
Travis and Maison grab him and haul him forward, letting him fall hard on his knees.
DuGray’s eyes meet mine. I put a hand toward Jake, not looking away from the man before me. Not wanting him to think even for a second that I’m afraid of him. “Do you have a knife?”
There’s the briefest of pauses before something heavy and cold is placed in my palm. I lean down and press the knife to where I assume his mouth is, pressing forward. He grunts, blood immediately pooling out of the hole I made. I flinch away and look up at Travis. He shrugs, not concerned. I suppose it’s not that bad. Just a little cut. I put the knife through the opening, DuGray tensing up until he’s perfectly still. I’m not particularly careful as I slice to the left, then the right, opening the hole further until he’ll be able to move his mouth enough to speak.
He spits blood at me, the warm liquid hitting my neck and chest. I ignore it. Ignore the way my skin crawls at the thought of being covered with any bodily fluid of his again.
“Do you know where you are right now?” I ask him, hating that my voice is shaking. I straighten up and step back toward Jake. His hand touches the small of my back, warm and steady through my shirt. “This spot? Right here? Do you see the divot in the concrete?”
He doesn’t look, just continuing to glare at me. He doesn’t talk either. That’s fine.
“Do you know what your guards used to do with me? The crawling game?” His bloody lips twist into as much of a smirk as they can with the tape still around them. I nod. “I figured you did. The very last crawling game was right here. This is where I lost. This very spot. I laid right here, staring at the divot for a long time. I thought I’d die here. But you know that, of course. You’re the one who came and found me here. Do you remember?”
I look around the room, knowing he probably won’t answer anyway. It hurts to look at some of the things in here, but it helps to have a purpose. Like there’s a barrier in my mind between my memories and my current motivation. My heart does something complicated when I see what I was looking for. The chest where he keeps his dildos.
“I don’t know much about this stuff,” I admit to both him and the men around us. I look at Jake. “I have to be careful of arteries and whatnot, right? If I don’t want him to bleed out?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the safest place?”
“Outer thigh. You want to avoid the femoral artery.”
“Excellent.” I crouch down and stab the knife into the outside of DuGray’s thigh. It’s harder than I thought, the muscle fighting against my blade, but I rather enjoy the choked sound of pain he makes and the soft sounds of surprise that comes from the other men. It’s fun to surprise them. Maybe even surprise me. I feel a little bit like a badass at the moment. You know, if badasses feel slightly nauseous and on the verge of either laughing hysterically or sobbing for hours. “Hold that for me, will you?”
“You stupid little fuck-” Jake slams the butt of his gun against DuGray’s temple, cutting him off and sending him falling forward onto his face.
“He didn’t give you permission to speak,” Jake growls. “You will give him some goddamn respect.”
DuGray’s only response is a gurgling sort of groan. I leave him behind, making sure to give Jake a soft smile before I walk away. He looks like he wants to follow me but he only wavers for a moment before settling back to wait.
The toy I want is at the top of the chest. I hesitate for a moment, knowing where this has been, what it’s done to me, but then I take a breath and grab it. As I walk back over to the men waiting for me, I ask, “Can someone make him naked please?”
Travis laughs, already pulling out his knife. “Gladly.”
Maison joins in, Jake overseeing it. He turns when I reach him, his eyes falling to my hand. Something complicated passes over his expression before he wraps his arm around me, pulling me into his side.
