Chapter 9 Cal
CAL
“You’ve been keeping Melton in a cage?” Bolton asks.
The smile on his face makes keeping this asshole alive in this freezing cold warehouse for a week worth it. Ever since he got home from the hospital, he’s been off. Our therapy session with Dr. Locke helped, but I think seeing this is giving him some much-needed closure.
“Yes. Think of this as a late Valentine’s Day gift, baby. You get to torture Melton for information whenever you feel up to it.”
“And then maybe we can find the next assholes up the food chain? Shut this trafficking ring down…” he peers up at me with big, hopeful eyes.
“Of course. Anything you want.” And I mean it. I’d give my man anything he wants. Any time.
“Good. Because husbands who hunt together, stay together.”
“You should put that in one of your books. It’s catchy.” Everything Bolton writes is catchy. His new male/male romance is amazing so far. I don’t think anyone is going to see the twist coming.
“Already planned on it,” he quips before kissing me on the cheek.
“You two make me sick.” Melton grumps. Who would have thought being trapped in a cramped cage with no food, water, or dignity would make someone cranky?
“Don’t be jealous that I have the best husband in the world.” Bolton rises from the chair I brought in for him, then circles Melton’s cage. “I heard you’re homophobic. Your nephew says you terrorize your family, too.”
“He’s weak. His parents should have aborted him,” Melton spits on the ground outside the cage. If he can spit, I’ve been giving him too much water.
“You have problems with empathy. Our therapist would have a field day dissecting you. I think the perfect punishment would be to torture you for information, then we can sell you to the highest bidder. Then you’ll know how those poor women felt.”
Melton whips his head toward Bolton. “No, don’t sell me!” he screams.
“Did I hit a nerve? Now I’m definitely selling you.” My husband cackles like a crazy person, and now I know he’s really in his element. It’s crazy how he can go from being my sweet little Bolton to this monster at the flick of a switch.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Please kill me. Don’t sell me,” he begs.
Bolton gets a butcher’s knife from the toolkit on the counter. He places it just so, then grabs a hammer and nails. I’m curious to see what he’ll do with them.
“Sorry, I was picking out the tools I need to torture you. I like to have an entire scene prepared. What did you say?” Bolton winks at me, the ham.
“Please don’t sell me!” he screams.
“Why? It seems fair. Live by the sword, die by it. Right, Cal?”
“Yeah, I think that’s the saying.” I play along, enjoying this more and more as the minutes tick by. I didn’t think Melton would be so easy to crack.
“You have no clue what they’ll do to me.” He cries like a snotty baby, all ugly, gross tears.
“But you do. You know what they’ll do because you’ve done it to others.” Bolton holds up two pairs of pliers to me. “Daddy, which pliers are better for pulling teeth, and which are better for snapping toes?”
“Hmmm. The ones with the blue handles. They have a better grip.” A good grip is necessary because without one, you risk only pulling part of the tooth out.
“Please don’t pull my teeth out!” The smell of urine hits the air. He’s so scared he soiled himself.
“I’ll make you a deal. If you tell me everything about this operation, I promise to kill you.”
“Yes! Deal!” He shifts in his cage, and the acrid smell of his urine gets worse.
Bolton pulls the chair up to the cage, then sits down. He pulls a notepad and pen from his pocket. “Okay, Melton. Tell me everything.”
He spills the tea so fast, it’s pathetic. No fight, no grit. He’s such a piece of shit. When he’s done, Bolton takes a taser from the counter and lights the fucker up. He must be using a high voltage to make him convulse like that.
“What the fuck?!” he screams, his voice breaking on the last word. “You said you’d kill me!”
“Yeah, I will. After I torture you first. I’m not sure if Cal shared this with you…but torturing you is his gift to me. And I always appreciate the gifts my husband gives me. He works so hard, you know?”
Yeah, I know.
Running a company, being a vigilante, and keeping up with Bolton daily is basically like having three jobs. It’s not easy. But it’s worth it. I wouldn’t trade the life we have together for anything, because he makes life worth living.
***
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