Chapter Twenty-two #2
“Shame I missed that pretty thing with you,” Kurtis sneers, “I bet she would bleed so prettily.”
My fingers curl against the top of the table, and to my right, I see my brother step up.
“I guess you’ll never know,” I shrug, playing it off. “But enough of this, perhaps we can reach a deal?”
The lie is smooth and easy. I’ve never claimed to be a man of my word, not down here, and giving false hope to get what I want rolls off my back.
“Like I already said,” Kurtis attempts to lean forward, but his restraints stop him, “I ain’t fucking talking.”
“Really?” Nonchalance is my mask as I check my nails and then buff them against the breast of my shirt. “So you’ll protect a man who hasn’t even asked about you? Hasn’t even looked? I thought you two were close.”
Kurtis snaps his teeth together, and I lean forward, resting my elbow on the table so I can place my chin in my hand.
“I bet if I asked him, he’d tell me you did this all by yourself.”
“You’re lying,” He growls.
“Am I?” I hold his stare, “Or did you get back to his base the day of the shooting to find him disappointed?”
I’m going so fucking low here.
“Disappointed like your daddy was disappointed that time you came home from school with a black eye. Not concerned. Not sad. Disappointed because you didn’t hit back.”
“How — how do you know that?” He stutters.
“I know everything, Kurtis, which is why I know Mr. Taylor is not looking for you, not even concerned. He’s probably trying to figure out how he can cover his back because we all know you didn’t come for me off your own back, did you? Richard gave the order.”
I open the drawer and pull out a gun, already loaded, a rusted old butcher’s knife, and some paperclips, laying them down on the table.
He stays quiet.
“What a shame,” I sigh, feigning disappointment as I pick up a single paperclip and unbend it. “I’m not even really upset about the attempt on my life. It happens to men like us, but you almost hit her. You almost hurt my daughter too.”
I place the somewhat straightened paperclip down and pick up the next one, unfolding that one too.
“I can let some things go, Kurtis, but that I cannot.”
The paperclip tings against the table as I drop it and pick up the next, the room falling silent as I get all five straightened out.
“I’ll give you one more chance.” I offer. “I just need confirmation.”
“Get fucked,” He snaps.
“Very well,” I sigh, picking up a paperclip and standing from the chair. No one makes a sound, they all watch, even Kurtis, who is trying to figure out what I’m about to do. My steps echo on the hard floor, bouncing back to us from the icy walls.
“What are you doing?” Kurtis finally asks.
“We like to call it motivation,” Killian chuckles as he grabs his hand to stabilize it, bending it in a way the bindings dig in a touch to his wrists. Kurtis hisses in pain, but it’s nothing to what is about to happen.
What is it about fingers that makes everyone cringe? Why do they always hurt so fucking bad?
Crouching behind him, I press the tip of the paperclip just under the bridge of his nail, pushing enough to tell him what I’m doing.
“Wait!” He hollers just as I ram the small metal rod right into the bed. He screams as blood pours from the tip of his finger.
“Wait?” I stand. “You ready to talk?”
He glares at me, keeping silent. I shake my head at him. Why are they all the same? What do they think will happen? That I’ll stop? That it’ll all go away?
“He doesn’t give a shit about you, Kurtis,” I press on his need to be wanted, to feel important. He craves companionship, but he went to the wrong person to get it. “He doesn’t care that you’re missing, isn’t even looking for you. You sure you want to go through all of this to protect him?”
I position the next paperclip at his silence, and when that continues for another few seconds, I don’t warn him as I shove the paperclip so far down his nail that it pushes into the cuticle and then the finger itself.
He throws up.
“We have 8 fingers to go and once those are done, we can start on your toes, how does that sound?” There’s a steady stream of blood pooling beneath his bound hands and I only add to it when I move onto the next finger.
“Stop!” He cries, sucking in heavy gasps of breath, “Stop! He hired me! He ordered it!”
I return to standing, dropping the remaining paperclips onto the table. He winces as they make a tinging sound, turning his face away.
“What else can you tell me?” I ask, lowering myself back into my seat. Bast is recording the whole thing to use later on. Kurtis just continues to sob.
“I know I phrased it like a question, Kurtis, but it was not. Tell me all of it, or we continue where we just left off. My patience is wearing thin.”
“He–he ordered it because he found you in his system. He didn’t want you to see it. None of it.”
“But I’ve seen it,” I lean back in my chair, “I have it all downloaded. I know what he is doing.”
“It wasn’t just that, he knew that.” Kurtis lifts his one good eye to me, “He wanted me to kill you to send a message to the organization. He wanted me to kill you and take the girl who was with you.”
Rage whips through me. “Why her?”
“He figured she was important.” He sniffs loudly, “Pretty he said. He said she’d fetch a lot of money if it turned out she wasn’t. He was willing to gamble.”
“Here’s the thing, Kurtis. He can’t have her. ”
My fury is boiling inside me, the level rising as it heats my blood. He isn’t going to fucking touch her. I didn’t have everything, I figured it out, but I didn’t have the proof. Now I do.
Either way, Sloane is no longer safe. Richard has his eye on her; since his initial plan failed, I know he’ll try again.
“What are you going to do?”
“Well, Kurtis,” I reach behind me and pull out my gun, “I’m going to kill you and send you back in a box to your boss. As for your boss, I’m going to tear his organization down, and once that’s done, I’m going to rip him apart and hang the pieces up for the entire city to see.”
I see my brother glance at me. Because of course, I’m the quiet one, the one who silences his rage, the one who uses strategy and intelligence to take down my enemies. Sure, I’m no stranger to violence, but it isn’t my go-to like the other guys.
Now?
Now it’s my only fuel.
Leveling my gun to the space between his eyes, I pull the trigger before he can utter a word of protest. The bullet slices through his skull and back out in a mere second.
And then I leave, hoping like hell the woman who has somehow crawled under my skin believes me when I tell her she has no choice but to stay with me, that I can keep her safe.