20. Nico
Chapter 20
Nico
I huff out a sigh. I’m a little pissed that this doesn’t look like it is going to be as much fun as I first thought. If Ivan is already pissing himself, not for the first time, then … Well, then it’s going to be very boring.
I was counting on him to take my mind off a certain someone. However, all may not be lost. He may want to give in easily but it doesn’t mean I can take my frustrations out on him. It will certainly make me feel better.
“Tommy, get the acid ready. We need to make sure there is no evidence,” I tell him, although there isn’t really any need, he is the pro at getting rid of bodies, but I think rather than get rid of the evidence when he is dead, why not start when he is alive.
“Wait, please, no … I…” Ivan starts to sob.
“You’re wasting both your breath and my time,” I tell him. “Tommy, bring the table over here,” I order.
I laugh as I look over at Ivan, maybe I could have some fun after all. I kick his chair, tipping him over, the sound echoing in the container. The wheels of the table thud like a heartbeat as Tommy pushes it over to us.
“Where is the tarp?” I ask as I head back over to the cupboards. Tommy nods to the one above me, and reaching up, I grab the sealed bag and the clear packaging rustling as I open it. I shake it out several times, and the material slices through the air. Metal ring holes on the corners crack against the floor, causing Ivan to let out a pathetic whimper. I chuckle, continuing until I have the floor covered.
Tommy proceeds to roll the table back on to the tarp and secure the wheels. “Get him up and secure him to the table,” I tell him as I take my phone from my pocket to check if I have any messages from her. “Fuck!” I say out loud.
“Everything okay?” Tommy asks as he is moving Ivan from the chair to the table. It looks more like a surgeon’s table, all shiny and silver. I don’t know where he gets all this shit from but, it comes in fucking handy!
“All good,” I tell him as I place my phone back in my jacket pocket and place it on the side. I undo my shirt buttons and roll them up—I’m glad I wore black today—shit is about to get messy.
Rummaging through the drawers and cupboards I find everything I need and place them on a surgical trolly. I smile as I think about all the poor motherfuckers that have been in here. Tommy is a sick fuck, and I don’t think there is anything he doesn’t have.
The light flickers above Ivan’s head, making him jump, and I look to Tommy who sniggers at his response.
I peel away his shirt and strip him free of his slacks and shoes. “Fuck me, Ivan!” I scrunch my face up. It really does grind my gears when they shit themselves … Blood, fine, but shit, come on!
Tommy helps remove his clothing, dropping it to the tarp, until we have a fully naked traitor on the table. Dragging my knife down his chest, not hard enough to break his skin but enough for him to hold his breath, I trail it all the way down to his flaccid cock, then I flip it with the knife and tap on his balls. “What do you know, you do have a pair.” I smile up at him as he swallows loudly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down nervously.
I place the knife on his stomach as I reach for the clamps and place them around the top of his balls and grip tight. His high pitch scream pierces my ears, and a trickle of piss coats my hand. I drop the tightened clamp and swing, my fist landing on his nose, breaking it, and blood splatters over my shirt as he continues to yell and scream.
“Gag him,” I order Tommy, who proceeds to get some tape from his cupboard. “That was for pissing on my hand.” I point at Ivan and squeeze his broken nose with one hand, then when his mouth opens in pain, I shove my piss covered hand in. “It isn’t nice is it,” I tell him. “How do you like the taste of your own piss?” Pulling back I make way for Tommy to cover his mouth, his shrieking is like finger nails running down a chalkboard.
“Perfect, now back to business,” I say as I step to the side and pick up the knife from his stomach. In one slice I remove his testicles. I watch him as bloody snot runs down his face, mixing with his tears.
Blood seeps from the clamp. “Tommy, stitch this up,” I command as I move round the table. He won’t die from this, not unless I leave him to bleed out. Of course, that is not my plan. I want this mother fucker to feel pain and to realize that he shouldn’t have crossed me.
I can’t resist the pull to my phone while I wait for Tommy to finish up, and I check I haven’t missed anything, but still nothing! I guess she really has withdrawn. I knew something was off, so it looks like I’ll have to take things into my own hands. I’m not a patient man, and I thought I would have had something by now … anything. Normally when I fuck women, they don’t stop pestering me, but this one leaves me hanging.
It’s only been a few hours, but that’s more than enough time without hearing from her.
“All done, boss.” Tommy clears his throat behind me, and I turn my head and raise a brow and stare at him. “You wouldn’t be looking at my texts now, would you, Tommy?” I narrow my eyes at him.
“Of course not, boss.” He smiles at me and slaps my back, then heads back to the table, dragging another surgical table with him. I hear the sloshing of acid as it slaps against the side of the bowl.
“I’d like to remove his fingers and toes when you’ve finished,” he tells me. “And of course, his teeth,” he says with a sinister smile.