Chapter 9 #3
“Is the fucker pissing himself already?” Lori sighs with disappointment. “Wimp. Just leave him on the toilet and wait for hemorrhoids to pop out, he’ll talk like a canary.”
“No bees up his nostrils or worms shoved in his belly, Little Wasp? You seem to be into that lately.” Gabriel asks Lori.
“Flesh-eating bugs…sound more painful. Hundreds of little beetles burrowing into his skin, sinking their teeth deep, eating him from the inside while he screams in anguish. The asshole needs all the agony we can inflict on him.” Lori looks like a bloodthirsty little squirrel.
His vividly portrayed story works on the donor, though.
He’s crying now, big, fat tears are rolling down his red cheeks.
“Can you get those bugs in the next three minutes? My knives are craving blood.” Uriel turns his empty eyes toward the wailing prick. Then he opens one of the plastic drawers from the cart and takes a pack of cigarettes out. That flimsy cart is seriously out of place here.
He takes one out and lights it. Since when does he smoke?
“I’ll t-tell you…whatever y-you want t-to know. Please,” his stuttering voice breaks as more waterworks come out.
Linda grabs his chin, sinking her nails into the skin of his cheeks. “Meghan Bear-Stone. You are going to tell me exactly how you made the poison that put her in a coma. Lie to me, and I’ll cut you into pieces, slowly, forcing you to watch while I’m doing it.”
“Wow.” It comes out of Hunter’s mouth. I called it.
“Can’t believe he bought your story,” I whisper to Lori. Flesh-eating bugs don’t have teeth and only eat dead meat.
“Right? I found that mental torture is fun, too.” Lori blows a curl off his forehead. “But did I sound convincing to you? I have a trial next Monday, and the judge is a tough one.”
“You sounded very convincing,” Gabriel states, pulling Lori near him.
“Your opinion doesn’t count, you are biased,” Lori counters, kissing his chin. “You okay?”
Gabriel’s jaw ticking is the only sign of his…discomfort. He must be really enraged to show it. His face is usually void of any kind of emotion. I like that.
“I haven’t killed anybody in days,” I hear Uriel snarl, towering over the poisoner.
“Idle hands do the devil’s work.” Ramiel nods from his position near the wall.
My brother continues. “I’m a bit…”
“Shaky?” Ramiel offers.
“Impatient,” Lori counters.
“Insane,” I give my opinion.
“Ravenous,” Uriel finally replies, fisting the guy’s head and pushing the blazing hot end of the cigarette onto the guy’s eye. More screams.
I grab my cell and open Sully’s tracking app.
He’s moving on campus, going toward the lecture hall.
Ren texted me saying he’s already with him.
I look at the time. Michael’s lecture will start in fifteen minutes, Sully will be in a crowded room, under Ren’s and Michael’s eyes—and four undercover bodyguards Uriel hired. I should work on Jacob in the meantime.
“We got it!” Ramiel’s sudden shout catches my attention. He’s on the phone with Sariel, listing the poison mix components. The fucker spilled the beans straight away. His left face is covered in cigarette burns, his ear is missing. No, it’s on the floor in a puddle of blood.
“Just kill the dirtbag. Shoot him, cut his throat. The end.” I try to hurry the process. Fucking boring.
The no is unanimous, except Linda, who turns a hostile gaze on me. Her aura of ruthless power could be intimidating, but I know what a real monster looks like and she ain’t it. She comes closer, though.
“He could know something important,” Uriel says.
More bullshit. They just want to vent their fury on someone in place of Nine—nothing wrong with that.
But I can clearly see that this blubbering mess of a pathetic wimp is a nobody.
He knows shit. Pretty sure he went underground because Nine wanted him dead.
He was good at hiding, I’ll give him that, but this is the end of the road for him.
“Tell me about Phoenix,” Linda orders him. Ramiel is holding the fucker’s hand down while Uriel is ready to drop the hammer down on the next finger. The guy is a bloody mess already.
“Strawberry!” the guy screams, shaking like a leaf, red face covered in snot and tears. “She-she smelled like strawberry, a-a weird s-sweet, artificial s-smell.”
What?
“She’s tall. Short-short hair. Blue, cold eyes. I couldn’t say no. I couldn’t say no, I couldn’t say no to her.” He earned half a million for the poison, not counting his previous jobs. Now he pretends to be all regretful. What’s the enjoyment in all this? I still don’t get it.
The hammer hits the next finger. The crunching sound echoes and his shriek is almost too much. Linda grabs a big-ass metal saw from a shelf hidden behind one of the hula-girl sheets and moves back to the guy. Things are getting serious now.
Gabriel pulls Lori’s head to the side to kiss his neck. “I’m going to get busy with the fucker, do you want to join?”
“No, this is your show. Torture the pissing fucker, I’ll find something to entertain me.” Lori nips at his chin.
“I bet you will, Little Wasp.” Bezaliel slaps his ass before going into the FUNS room 3. As the door closes, a pungent whiff of chlorine hits me.
“What’s with the unbearable chemical smell?” How can they even stand being in the room with such a sharp, acrid stench?
Raphael appears next to me—I heard the elevator opening a few seconds ago, but he’s incredibly light on his feet. “Rague,” he only says.
Lori clarifies for me. “KKJ had to bathe the whole room in bleach after the red Hulk came out and dug a tunnel through the donor’s stomach, chest, and groin. It’s on the wall of records.” He points at it.
I thought Raguel was getting better. I’m curious to see what he looks like during a red haze episode, now.
A gurgle noise comes from the FUNS room, but before I can look at what is happening Raphael asks me, “Why do you kill?”
“I’m good at it,” I simply say.
“And?” Lori presses me to go on.
“And nothing,” I reply, looking at Uriel piercing the guy’s belly button with a sharp metal rod. His shriek is too high-pitched for my ears.
“Hogwash.” Lori tsks twice. “I kill because I like to impart some sense into devious dirtbags before they meet their maker.”
“The hole inside me gets hollower with no blood filling it.” Raphael gives me a soulless look. He looks hungry for it. The poisoner is even more fucked.
“What is this, a sharing group thing?” I scoff.
“At times,” Raph replies.
I quickly weigh the pros and cons and then decide to join.
“Once I set my sights on a target, I never stop until it’s dead. Their fake regrets and pitiful pleas are nonsense. One arrow and they are done.” I turn my dead serious eyes on them.
Raphael smirks at me—callous psychopath to psychopath.
“Ruthless. That’s what I’m talking about!” Lori’s whistle gets mixed with the donor’s cry for help.
“I’m leaving,” I say. I’ve had enough of this.
“Where are you going?” Lori asks.
“Nowhere.” I move toward the elevator. The doors open, and I get in as I hear another scream. So fucking noisy.
Lori follows. “What a coincidence, I’m going there too!”
“No, you are not,” I reply. But he keeps walking behind me as I cross the kitchen and then exit the building.
“Pretty sure I am.”
Fuck! “Do you falsely think that I won’t hurt you if you keep following me?” Why is nobody in this fucking family afraid of me? Do I need to rectify that?
“No. I’m confident you’ll try. And that’s the entertainment I’m looking forward to.” He smiles sinisterly.
“You are delusional if you think I won’t kill you on my first attempt.”
He shrugs. “You think Sully would forgive you? We are like bros, you know?”
I can easily be duplicitous and calculating, but Lori is something else entirely. Under that perfectly moisturized skin and soft curls, there’s a nasty, sly demon ready to pounce.
“You think that will work on me?” I stop for a moment before resuming my advance toward the car.
“No, I know for a fact that it will.”
Why does Sully enjoy this fucker’s company? “What do you want?”
“I’m bored. And when I feel like this, it’s like something is going to…burst inside me unless I do something.”
I know the feeling too well.
“And there’s an oddly shaped cloud following me around town…so I’d better stick with you.”
What the fuck is he talking about? How is it possible that nobody among the family killed him yet? I enter the car, and he hurriedly follows, taking the passenger seat. Maybe he can make Jacob talk by just yapping on.
“Now you’re going to tell me chicken nuggets are made from human meat?” I tease.
“Only twenty percent.” Lori makes a dismissive gesture with his tiny hand. The red nail polish matches the lipstick and high-heeled boots.
“Do you ever stop talking?”
“I can’t. If I shut up, subtitles come out of my face, and you know most people abhor subtitles. Hence, better talking. Where are we going?”
“To see Jacob.” I glance at him again, before looking ahead as I keep driving. I speed up, he isn’t using a seat belt…accidents happen.
He bounces on the seat and then whips around to look at me, eyes sparkling with dark excitement. “The asshole who hit Sully-doo?”
I nod.
He lets out a whoo-hoo and then drums his hand over the car ceiling. “I knew sticking with you was the right choice. Take this, creepy cloud!” He flips the bird…at the sky.
“Let’s put on some music. This is a playlist in your honor.” Radiohead’s “Creep” starts playing on his phone.
My hands tighten around the steering wheel.
“Is that your mask?” He suddenly notices it on the back seat. His hand moves toward it, and I growl a threatening no touching. Nobody touches my mask. Nobody. For once, Lori listens.
“No need to be so grumpy, jeez!” He starts tapping on his phone screen while the music keeps playing. After a minute, he shoves it on my face. “Just stop here on the way.”
“A costume shop?”
“I need a mask, too! Perfect. The shop is inside a mall, and we need supplies.”
What supplies?