Chapter Thirty-Six
Baxter
‘Zadok The Priest’ is playing in the background.
Onyx may like to thrash heavy metal to torture people, but I prefer classical.
Not only can you hear your victims’ screams of pain, but it washes over your brain like a warm bath on a cold day too.
The asshole has been in and out of consciousness for the last hour.
“Good, you’re awake,” I say, taking a blow torch from the table of pain as I like to call it. His eyes widen as I fire it up.
“I was beginning to think I killed you before the party arrived, and we can’t have that.”
“See, while I’m loyal to The Order because it is my birthright, I also take on side jobs. Amelie’s fraternal grandmother is a woman I can respect, and she made me promise to watch over her granddaughter. I now have to explain to her how this happened on my watch…”
“Do you know how pissed off that makes me? I’m good at what I do. And unlike you, I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. So pissing off an old woman, especially one who runs a criminal empire in Australia, is not a move I wanted to make.”
“It may not seem like a big deal, but you’d be surprised at the connections a person can make by the time they are that old. It boils down to respect. But I guess a bottom feeder like yourself wouldn’t understand anything about respect.”
The flame hits his skin and a scream pierces the air, along with the smell of skin melting. It’s not a smell for the faint hearted.
I flick the torch off.
“We could make this quick, but where would the fun be in that? Usually I don’t like to draw things out longer than I need to, but I also like to be entertained, and that girl you tried to take will have four very pissed off boyfriends seeking retribution for your actions.
I’m not an unreasonable man, Amelie is very attractive, and I know she would have made you a pretty penny.
So I will forgive you for noticing her beauty.
But selling human beings as sex slaves, is not a moral way to make a living. ”
“Fuck you,” he seethes. “You think I don’t know about The Order and its illegal dealings?”
“You’re right,” I say, squatting down in front of him. “Illegal is illegal...but you see, morals mean a lot too. We don’t force people to do anything they don’t want to do.”
A throat clearing behind me draws my attention to the door. The three stooges are standing there, murder reflected in their eyes.
“Thought you were waiting for us, asshole?” Onyx snaps, pushing off the wall.
“One thing I want to know is how someone so inconsequential knows about The Order? Who are you working with?” Sawyer asks.
The guy might annoy the living daylight out of me, but he is perceptive as hell.
“It looks like the party has arrived, any last words?” The look in his eyes now the Knox brothers have arrived isn’t one of fear like it should be.
“Did your bitch tell you the deal we struck?” he spits.
Onyx flies to his side, the loose cannon of the family. He drives a screwdriver of all things into Christos’ leg. A scream rips from Christos’ lips. “Call her a bitch again,” Onyx warns.
“What my brother means to say is that, yes we are aware, but something you might want to remember is that there was no mention of us not torturing you, just the killing part...so there will be a few hours of that first. And as for your death? We do have one person in the room who is not one of Amelie’s boyfriends, but as our girl would say, ‘you can bet your ass’ he would kill for her,” the weaker twin replies.
“How slowly we draw out your death is up to you; maybe you have some intel you’d like to share?
I believe someone has told you way too much, and I want to know why,” Sawyer demands.
He does rank higher than all of us, especially now he is no longer teaching and has taken a full-time position within The Order.
Slate and Onyx move to the table of tools and pick their weapons of choice: Slate grabs a hammer and Onyx opts for a knife, simple and to the point. I take a back seat to the torture, knowing that these three have it handled.
“I wonder if we should punish him first or draw out information?” Slate asks Onyx, Sawyer watching intently.
“Punish him,” all three say in unison.
Slate swings the hammer and it crunches straight into his kneecap, a scream doesn’t even begin to explain the noise that rips from Christos’ lips.
“That is for my brother who couldn’t be here,” Slate spits. It’s rare to hear venom in his voice. He may follow his brother around like a lost puppy, but he is usually softer than Onyx.
When Christos pulls himself together, Sawyer moves closer, rolling up his shirt sleeves.
“How long have you been working with my grandfather?” he asks.
“Fuck you.”
Sawyer swings and his fist connects with Christos’ face, blood splashing back onto his clean white shirt.
“If he isn’t going to talk, maybe I should just cut out his tongue?” Onyx suggests, taking a step to join his brother. Holding out the massive hunting knife in his right hand, he grabs Christos' face with his left.
“Fine,” Christos mumbles, shaking his head to try to remove Onyx’s hand. “We’ve been working together for a few years. He gets a cut of the profits to ensure that I don’t get a bullet between my eyes.”
I scoff.
“Fat lot of good that did you. For a savvy businessman like yourself, you’d think you would’ve done your research on the girl.” I lean back against the wall and light a cigarette.
Torture really isn’t my thing, I prefer quick and easy, mainly due to the time wasted. Not that I don’t like to play sometimes, I do, but this scum isn’t worth my time. Well, he wasn’t until he took Amelie.
I really don’t know what it is about her, but somehow she has wormed her way into my life.
As a friend only. Don’t get me wrong, if she was naked and willing, I wouldn’t kick her out of bed, but friends is not a word I use often.
I have business contacts, those who owe me favours, people I can use to my advantage, but not an honest to god real friend. It’s alien to me.
Christos’ screams pull me back into the room. Onyx has pliers now and is pulling teeth with a wicked grin on his face. Pretty sure he’s loving this, and not just to avenge Amelie.
Once upon a time when we joined The Order, we had planned to work alongside each other. Though that was a different time, back when I thought they could have possibly been friends or brothers.
The onslaught of torture goes on for a few hours.
Every time Christos passes out, they wait, giving him enough time to wake up and start again.
Onyx has used just about every tool I had available, making me glad we have clean up teams to deal with this.
Those poor fucks will be scrubbing blood from the ceiling for days.
Onyx douses the guy in petrol while he sleeps, waiting for him to wake. One of the most important things we are taught is to leave emotions out of it in times like this, yet I agreed to help because my emotions got the better of me.
I pull the gun from the tool bench. I have a clear shot, so I pull the trigger and the bullet hits him dead centre between his eyes.
“What the fuck?!” Onyx roars. “I wasn’t finished with him yet!”
“Crimes of passion make you sloppy,” I reply and they all turn to look at me.
“How is burning him alive, sloppy? I wanted to hear him scream as he took his last breath!”
“He wasn’t going to scream,” Slate says.
“We need to get back to Amelie, we’ve been here for hours,” Sawyer adds, clapping his brother on the shoulder.
Onyx storms from the room, muttering under his breath.
“You good to have this cleaned up?” Sawyer asks. I nod as they both turn and leave.
I use a burner phone to call the nearest clean up crew. We keep a few at all of our locations. They will be here within the hour. I also take the opportunity to call Camilla, Amelie’s grandmother.
She will have heard the news by now; I’m not the only person she has working for her, keeping eyes on her granddaughter.
“This better be good, Ragazzo.” Her voice is croaky with age, like someone who has smoked forty a day for the last sixty years, but still sharp. There’s no getting anything past this woman.
“Amelie is fine.”
“That I know,” she snaps, unimpressed. “What I don’t know is why or how this could happen?”
“Harold. He fooled his son into thinking one thing and he planned this.”
“You will kill him?” This sounds a lot like a rhetorical question. One I really want to say yes to.
“I can’t. You know that. Surely you have other contacts who can?”
“We had a deal!” she seethes.
“We had a deal that I would do my best to watch her. And I have. I don’t have eyes in the back of my head; I did what I could. I can no longer go behind her back and work for you anymore.”
“How much do you trust those security men?”
“With her life. Frost is a good man and Jasper has proven his worth.”
“Would they work with me?”
“You mean for you.” I sigh. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask them. I look forward to collecting my favour in the future.”
I cut the call before she can say anything.
I have worked for weeks beyond what she asked of me, in return for a favour. I’m not sure when, or if, I will ever be in need of her kind of skills, but it always pays to have one banked up, just in case.
I earnt my favour weeks ago, but I continue to watch over Amelie anyway. There was...something...in my chest when I heard she’d been taken for real. Emotions? Feelings? Concern? Is that what friendship is? I’m not sure I like it.