Chapter 23
HARLOW
"He's waking up." Cass stood beside the table, looking down at Fairfield, who was bound to it, hands and feet.
"You don't have to watch any of this." I walked over to him and placed my arm around him, resting my head on his shoulder. "If you need to leave, no one is going to blame you."
"I'll blame me," he said. "After what he did to my brother, I owe it to Augustus to stay."
"He'd understand if you didn't," I assured him. "The things you're going to see, you won't be able to unsee them."
"What about you?" He wrapped his arm around me. "You won't be able to unsee it either."
"I've never been bothered by raw meat," I said simply.
"She seemed to enjoy your raw meat." Boner stepped to the other side of me and grinned. "And mine that night she and I shared."
I snorted a soft laugh. "See, I'm a big fan of raw meat. I can stomach just about anything. If it gets too much, the toilet is over there." I gestured off to the right.
Fairfield groaned, drawing our attention to him. Sluggishly, his eyes opened. Widened. He tried to call out, but the gag in his mouth muffled his words.
"At least he hasn't pissed himself yet," Boner said.
"Yet," I agreed.
"I have a few tools you can use." Archer entered the room, carrying a case. He set it down beside Fairfield and opened it.
"I think I just got an erection," Boner said. "Hardware, my dude, you're my new hero."
"Hardwick," Archer said like he might use one of the implements on Boner.
Ignoring them both, I stepped over to take a look.
"Very nice." He'd included several knives, a pair of scissors, pinking shears, a couple of pieces of rough rope, two pairs of pliers, a spatula, several different sized vegetable peelers and an apple corer.
"A spatula?" Cass asked over my shoulder.
"I can demonstrate it for you if you like?" Boner reached for it, pulling it out of the case and brandishing it in front of Cass' face.
Cass swatted it away. "But what is it really for?"
"Scooping up guts," Archer said, his expression deadpan. "It's easier than bare hands."
"I shouldn't have asked," Cass groaned. But then he added, "And the apple corer?"
"Anal." Once again, Archer's face was expressionless.
"I don't want you to demonstrate," Cass said to Boner before the Englishman could say a word.
Boner grinned. "Anal is better with my cock. I am happy to demonstrate that for you any time." He patted Cass on the shoulder. "Now, where do we start with this prick?" He and Archer looked at me and Cass. For Cass and me, this was personal. For them, it was a bit of fun.
I thought for a moment before picking up a pair of scissors and stepping around the table. Grabbing one of Fairfield's fingers, I snipped it off slowly, working the blades through muscle and bone, and tossed it beside his face.
"How many women have you touched with those fingers?" I worked off another. "How many young men?"
While he moaned in pain, I removed all of the fingers from one hand, letting him bleed on the table.
"Cass, would you like to do the honors?" I nodded toward Fairfield's intact hand.
Cass was looking a little green as he shook his head, then nodded. "I don't know."
Fairfield turned his face toward him, pleading through the gag. It seemed he'd decided, if any one of us would give him mercy, it would be Cass.
"You could always start with a toe," Boner suggested. "Toes are easier."
I offered Cass the scissors.
His hand shaking, he took them and slid his fingers into the ring handles.
Tentatively, he took Fairfield's pinky finger between his thumb and forefinger and brought the blades of the scissors down to the webbing.
He closed his eyes and winced as he squeezed the scissors, slowly slicing through until the finger fell away.
It landed on the table, rolled once and lay still.
Fairfield screamed and sobbed, writhing and trying to get away from Cass.
Cass opened his eyes and stared down at the dismembered digit. He handed me back the scissors, turned and ran toward the toilet to empty his stomach.
"You did really well," I called out to him.
"Huh, that was surgical precision," Boner said admiringly. "Can I have a turn?" He held his hand out for the scissors.
"Of course." I lay them across his palm and stood back to watch him remove the rest of Fairfield's fingers.
"You're hot when you're dismembering people," Archer said, whispering in my ear.
I flashed him a grin. "I had the right tools.
I need a place like this." I looked around me.
We stood in a converted apartment with a view out to an otherwise unassuming neighborhood.
The floors were concrete, the walls brick.
All immaculately clean except the blood on the table.
Which was starting to pool and threatening to drip off onto the floor.
"You're welcome to use it anytime," he said. "If you have to bring anyone here, my door is open."
"I appreciate that." I leaned over to kiss his cheek.
"I have to admit," Boner said as he moved over to start on Fairfield's toes, "I visualized Vigilante University, but it never looked like this.
It always looked a bit more like…" Snip.
"A university campus." Snip. "With lecture theaters.
" Snip. "And rooms for tutorials and shit like that. " Snip. "And a university bar." Snip.
"It pays to have an open mind," Archer said. He gave me a look and mouthed, "Vigilante University?"
I shrugged one shoulder. "It sounds better than Felon University."
Boner looked over and grinned. "I'd love to attend FU." He frowned for a moment. "I'm trying to think of a way to add C and K to that."
"Of course you are," I told him. "Except I don't see us as felons anyway."
"Avenging Angel University?" Archer suggested.
"Asshole Torturers R-Us,” Boner said with a grin. He snipped off the last toe and set the scissors aside. "Now I really don't like this guy."
"Because you're lack toes intolerant?" Archer deadpanned.
Boner stared at him for a moment before he burst out laughing. "That's fucking hilarious, my dude. Also, I've finally figured out what fingerless gloves are for. Or should I say, who."
I shook my head at them both.
"What's up, love?" Boner cocked his head at me. "You know the sharpest thing in this place is my wit." He waggled his eyebrows.
"Keep telling yourself that," I said. I turned my face as Cass stepped back into the room, looking pale. "Are you okay?" I slipped my hand into his and drew him to my side. He wasn't trembling anymore, his body warm and firm against mine. Comforting me when I was trying to comfort him.
He nodded slowly. "Much better now." Reluctantly, he looked over to Fairfield. "I know I have to remind myself what he did to my brother, but…"
"He did the same thing to my sister," I said calmly. I was in no way going to feel sorry for Granger Fairfield. Not for a second. Did we need to do these things to him?
Absolutely.
It was a small punishment in comparison to the evil he'd done. Why shouldn't he suffer when the people we loved had suffered? None of it would take away the hurt, but it would make us feel better for a while.
"And lots of other people's brothers and sisters," Archer said. "He's getting exactly what he deserves."
"What he said," Boner agreed. "Now, which one of you is going to slice off his cock?"
Fairfield was getting weaker as he lost more and more blood, but he thrashed against his bindings at that. Struggling to get away, although he must have known he couldn't. Even if he wasn't outnumbered, he'd find it almost impossible to walk without toes.
"I'm not touching his dick," I said, disgusted at the thought. It wasn't much bigger than his pinky finger, but…yuck.
"I'm sorry, but I'm out," Cass said. He looked just as disgusted. If he went anywhere near that thing, he might be sick again.
"You hear that?" Boner patted Fairfield's bicep. "No one wants to touch your willy."
Fairfield stared back at him balefully. Did he think he was getting out of here otherwise intact?
"It might be time for the bath," Archer said.
"You want to clean this guy?" Boner jerked his thumb toward Fairfield. "We’ve barely started making a mess with him."
"Not in water," Archer said evenly. As if that explained everything.
Boner stared at him for a moment before understanding dawned. "Not hot water either? Let me guess, soda?" He clearly didn't think soda was involved.
"Vinegar and bicarb soda?" He didn't believe that either, although he seemed to like the idea. It would certainly be dramatic. A human volcano, but without the fun of lava.
"Hydrofluoric acid," Archer said. "It'll break down bone and tissue slowly, making it hurt, but easy to clean up afterwards."
Boner stepped over to him, placed his hands to either side of his head and loudly kissed him on the mouth. "You, my friend are bloody awesome."
Archer blinked at him a couple of times before gesturing toward Fairfield. "I could use a hand carrying him there."
"Anything for you." Boner stepped around to Fairfield's feet and started to remove the straps from the table. His ankles were still tightly bound together, as were his wrists.
After a moment, Cass stepped over to help them. The three of them carried Fairfield to the bathroom and pushed him into the bath. He slid down the side and landed in the bottom with a thud and a cry of pain.
They reattached the restraints to rings screwed into the side of the porcelain and stood back.
At one end of the bath a drum was connected to a tap, not unlike my box at home. When Archer leaned over to open the tap, acid started to trickle out slowly. At first, it didn't seem to do anything, then Fairfield started to whimper.
With the plug firmly in place, the bath filled slowly, liquid gradually creeping up over his legs, then his stomach.
I half expected to hear it sizzle, but of course it didn't. It wasn't a pan full of hot oil. This time.
"That should do it for now." Archer turned the tap, cutting off the flow. "We don't want him to drown in there."
"Yet," Boner and I said in unison.
"Yes, yet," Archer agreed. "He can have some fun in there for a while first."
"I don't know, but I think it's us having the fun," Boner said. "I know I am. All this revenge is making me horny." He adjusted the front of his pants.
Fairfield stared up at us with wide, terrified eyes. As the acid went to work on his skin, he finally understood. He wasn't getting out of this alive. His only hope now was to die quickly. That wish wasn't going to come true either.
I startled as Cass' phone rang.
He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. "It's Jules." He answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear. "Hey, what's going—" He stopped to listen. "He is? Isn't that, um…" He looked down at Fairfield and frowned. "It's too bad. His family must be worried."
He listened again. "What makes you think I know where he is?"
Jules raised his voice, loud enough for me to hear him, if not what he was saying.
Cass winced. "All right, fine. Give me a minute." He lowered the phone. "Jules had a change of heart…"