Chapter 18 #2
Our warehouse on the edge of our territory smelled like years of mildew growth.
Harley’s face was a mask of controlled rage as he checked his Beretta.
I felt the familiar thrum of adrenaline through my veins at the vengeance I was about to dole out.
Rhea still bore the marks of Rodriguez’s beating almost a week later.
Her eye was still swollen, her lip just barely scabbing over, and worst of all, she jumped at every shadow.
Not that our father gave a fuck about that.
In fact, he had just waved it off and told me Rhea needed to learn her place in his organization.
I’d had some of my own guys watching her place, not letting anyone other than Harley, Elin, and me in.
This wasn't vengeance; it was restoration of balance.
"Ready?" Harley asked, his voice a low growl.
With a nod, I walked in to Miguel Rodriguez sitting chained to a pipe in the center of the large, empty room, his bare feet sitting in water, slices along the sides looking red and irritated. I turned back toward Harley. “Nice touch on his feet.”
“Made sure it’s the sewer water too. He’s literally soaking his feet in our shit.
” Harley tilted his head to the side and pointed to the pipe above Rodriguez as he twitched when a drop from overhead landed on his shoulder.
“Also made sure to bind him so he couldn’t move much, and that drop of water on his shoulder must be feeling like a knife about now. ”
Slow, methodical torture before we’d even arrived. A single drop of water wouldn’t be a problem, until it hit the same spot repeatedly. Soon, it started feeling like a sharp needle pulsing its way into your skin, muscles, and bones.
A light sheen of sweat covered Rodriguez’s pasty skin as a smug smirk played on his lips. He looked almost . . . amused. The arrogance was sickening. He knew what was coming, and it didn't faze him in the slightest.
"You are awfully smug for someone about to die, Rodriguez," Harley said, his voice devoid of any emotion.
Rodriguez just laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Heard you Azzaros were hotheads. Guess I’ll find out firsthand. And from the Owl’s Talon? Heard he was nothing more than a squawking finch outside a window. That a pussycat would hurt more.”
I pulled out my knife. The cold steel was a comforting weight against the simmering rage.
"You think yourself so untouchable that you lay hands on Don Azzaro’s daughter? The Owl’s Talon’s sister? Your don’s betrothed?" My voice was dangerously quiet, each word dripping with venom.
“A woman’s place is to obey—”
“The woman’s place is wherever she fucking wants to be. You would have been well to remember that,” I growled as I shoved the knife into his shoulder.
Rodriguez groaned as the blade punctured muscle and tissue. I moved slowly, savoring the moment as I twisted it and pulled down, slicing through his shoulder, the sound of the blade scraping along the bone stopping only when his arm went limp.
Leaving the knife in, I stepped back, and he rolled his head up to look at me with a wide smile. “Really? That’s all the talon can do? You are known for being so much more brutal.”
I reached behind me and pulled another knife from my belt.
“Oh, like skinning you alive? Filleting you to the bone?” Crouching before him, I cut his jeans off quickly and stood.
“I could pop your eyeballs out. I especially like doing that. You never know where I’m coming from.
Can’t prepare for the pain. Don’t know if I’m slipping my knife into the tainted water your feet are soaking in before sinking it into your flesh. ”
Harley snickered beside me. “I always love when you pop their eyeballs, especially the juice flowing. It’s a masterpiece.”
Smiling at Harley, I asked, “Shall we show him?”
Without waiting for his answer, I took the metal talon around my finger and pressed it the outer edge of his eye.
His scream echoed off the walls as I hooked the blade around the back of the orb and pulled it out.
Blood and juices flowed from his eye as I turned to Harley with it between my fingertips. “Do you want the honors?”
He reached out, taking it in his hand and moving to where Rodriguez could still see with his good eye, and crouched down in front of him. “Open up so you can see how wonderful this looks.”
I took the talon and poked it under his chin, making him lift his head to look at Harley. “Look at him.” When he just whimpered, I screamed, “I said, look at him, you filthy piece of shit!”
Eventually, he opened his one eye, and when his attention went to where his eyeball was, blood rushed from his face, leaving him pale and sallow. I smiled as Harley squeezed and jelly burst from it. Then, an oil-like substance leaked from between his fingertips.
With my free hand, I ran my finger through it and scooped some of it up before swiping it across his forehead. “See? Magical.”
I marveled at Harley's hand for a moment before jerking my head to Rodriguez.
Harley stood, gripped him by the hair, and then went to work slicing the skin off his legs, bit by bit.
Rodriguez's body convulsed violently, his remaining eye bulging as he tried to scream through a throat already raw.
When I got to his dick, I just cut it off and tossed it to the side.
His vocal cords cracked as he made a sound like nothing human—half-gurgle, half-wheeze—him bucking against the restraints so hard I thought he might break his own spine. His whole body then went limp.
“Fuck. I hate it when they pass out.”
Harley laughed. “Lasted a lot longer than I expected. Most would have passed out at his eye, though.”
“Figures it was his dick that put him over the edge.”
We waited in silence until he stirred in the chair.
I went to his chest. I wanted him to feel every second, every cut.
I traced the blade across the blown-out tattoos, leaving a slow, deliberate trail of blood.
Rodriguez's teeth ground together so hard, I could hear the enamel crack, spit and blood foaming at the corners of his mouth as his one good eye rolled back then forward again, like he was desperate to stay conscious through the pain.
His breathing was slowing, and with the amount of blood coming from him, it was mere minutes before the man’s heart stopped.
Quickly, I carved the Azzaro owl into his chest. Let the Juarez family know that it was me. You don’t fuck with my sister.
The crimson flowing down his chest didn't disgust me. No, this was fueling me. It was as if the blood sang to my veins. Retribution for his actions against the family? Now that was just icing on the cake.
Stepping back, I stared into Miguel’s remaining eye as the only sound in the warehouse was the dripping of his blood onto the concrete floor. I smiled. “See you in hell, motherfucker.”
Harley went to work setting up a bomb in Rodriguez’s stomach.
The second they cut him free from the chair and he slumped forward, they would quickly be covered in the slimy, gooey entrails.
While he worked, a level of rage still simmered through me, and I wanted to watch him die over and over again.
Before long, Harley pulled out his phone and made a call. “Rodriguez is ready to pick up.” He gave the address, and just before he hung up, he said, “You’ll understand when you arrive.”
He nodded to me. Nothing more was said as we walked out. Let it be a reminder of what happened when you crossed the Azzaros.