Chapter 33 #2
“It’s an act,” King continues. “When you corner a spider, it may rear back and display its fangs, but that’s not because it’s brave. It knows the boot is coming, dear girl. It’s sore afraid.”
I look again, and he’s right. The unbroken eye contact is this man’s attempt to seem unbothered, but it’s so intense that it can’t be real. He doesn’t scream or plead, but his eyes aren’t the eyes of an unaffected man. There’s fear there, even if it’s buried beneath a whole lot of posturing.
I nod and step out of King’s hold as I inch closer to Brickle. Gary strapped his ankles to the thick legs underneath the chair, so I have no fear of a kick as I kneel in front of him and look up.
“Where did you put them, Brickle?” I ask. “This doesn’t have to be difficult.”
He looks away from me. Using my femininity is out, then.
“Okay, difficult is fine with me.” I stand and stroll to the wall of weapons. A chainsaw catches my eye, so I pull it off the wall. With a smirk, I turn toward the chair. “This would be so messy and fun, but too quick, right?”
Aven, Jim, and King nod in agreement.
“Entirely too quick, dear girl,” King says. “And you want to be fair. Give the man a chance to walk away with at least some of his limbs still intact. That has to be the reward for giving us the information we want.”
“Don’t be silly,” I say with a playful roll of my eyes. “Someone I admire once told me that death is the reward here.”
The men chuckle at this. Well, not Brickle. He just starts breathing a little harder.
“As much as I’d love to stay and watch, I’m afraid King and I have other engagements,” Jim says as he and King head for the door. “Enjoy your first taste of torture, and don’t forget to lock up when you’re done.”
The duo leaves, and I return to the wall of goodies. Aven joins me, and together, we decide the hammer is the simplest place to start.
“Start slow,” he says. “Ask a question and then give him a chance to make the right choice. If he doesn’t, swing away.”
I nod and step closer to Brickle. “Where did you hide the lemurs?”
He notices me eyeing his fingers, so he pulls them into fists.
“Last chance, asshole. Where are they?”
He remains silent, so I raise the hammer and drop it on his knee. His body jerks in the chair, and he lets out a guttural shout as his hands clasp and unclasp.
“Why do you give a shit?” he screams. “They’re fucking monkeys!”
“They’re prosimians, you moron!” I raise the hammer and bring it down on his other knee. Over his yelps, I shout, “And they matter more than your stupid ass!”
“Take out his eyes,” Aven says, and the man’s screams shut off as if he flipped a switch. “Aye, that’s the ticket. Grab the melon baller and pop them right out. See if he can think a little more clearly with one fewer sense to distract him.”
I grab the melon baller from the table and bring it closer to the man. He’s begun to sweat, but his lips remain sealed. Pain isn’t going to move him to tell us anything.
“I’ve got a better idea,” I say to Aven as I drop the melon baller to the floor. Not all torture comes in the form of violence, after all. “Come here.”
Aven joins me in front of the man, and I snuggle up to my Scottish dream. I nuzzle his chest and let out a low whimper. He just looks down at me, confused.
“You want to fuck in front of him?” His eyebrow rises. “I don’t think that’s going to get him to tell us anything.”
I give him the most performative pout I can muster. “Just cuddle me,” I say in a baby voice. “I’m scared of the big woller coaster.”
“Oh, fuck no,” the man whispers as he finally starts straining against the straps. “Not this. Anything but this.”
Aven catches on and joins the bit. “Is baby terrified? Does baby need daddy to snuggle his little pwincess?”
I nod up at him, my Scottish Cringe Lord, and he pulls me against him.
For the next few minutes, we pretend to be an annoying couple standing in line for a ride.
It’s the most torturous thing I’ve ever had to witness, so I can only hope it will push Brickle to the brink of madness.
We baby talk and comfort each other as loudly as possible until Brickle finally lets out another scream.
“Nine-two-nine Wester Drive,” he says. “They’re in Texas. Just make it fucking stop!”
I stand on tiptoe and place a kiss on Aven’s nose. “Thanks, daddy,” I whisper with a giggle before I skip straight over to Brickle and raise the hammer again. “Any last words, asshole?”
“They said you should be fair!” he screams.
“When it’s their turn to torture someone, they can extend grace if they’d like, but I’m fresh out.”
I bring the hammer down on his skull. The first blow sends his eyes looking in two different directions, but he doesn’t die. He just starts sort of jerking like the chair has been electrified. After two more blows, he finally stills.
As I drop the hammer at my side with a satisfied sigh, Aven steps into me. Pulling me close, he looks down and smiles. “You’re so feral, lass. I fucking love it.”
With a growl, he drops his mouth to my neck and cleans away the blood spray with his tongue. I tip my head to the side to give him more access. My eyes close, and I wrap my arms around his neck.
“I wish it had lasted longer. I should have saved that move for the finish,” I say.
“You’re already an ace at torture. Just look how you torture me.” He takes my hand and lowers it to his crotch. His stiff cock fills my hand through his pants. “Now how about that fun house?”
“It’ll have to wait,” a voice says through an overhead speaker, and Aven and I jump apart and look skyward. “Sorry, forgot to mention that we installed cameras and mics. Hope that’s okay.”
“Jim?” Aven says.
“And King,” a British voice says. “We’ve got a problem. We need both of you to meet us in Jim’s room. ASAP.”