Chapter Sixteen
Jace
? “Twist” - Korn ?
I was able to find a warehouse right outside of Cold Springs.
The warehouse is small, industrially constructed on the inside and broken down and abandoned on the outside.
Which is perfect for my activities. I haven’t had time to add the lockers and shelves to hide the toys, so I’m forced to make do with what I have handy and with what I keep in the trunk of my car.
I also forgot to buy a generator, which means there is no electricity inside, no heater, no lights, plus the constant downpour in Cold Springs has created a leak in the roof. It’s the perfect nightmare.
I open the door, hearing water droplets clink into a puddle, followed by mumbling in a far corner.
“Guess what I found?” I say into the dark, increasing my accent.
I walk toward the last location I remember putting him.
It’s been a couple of days since I dropped him off.
I decided to let him think about his actions before I started forcing consequences. “An LED cordless lamp!”
My foot hits the body. “Oh shit. Sorry lad.” I turn on the lamp to see James hogtied on the floor near my feet.
James, the lovely co-worker of Mateo, was kind enough to spill too much information at Club Opal while Mateo was too busy scanning the crowd for my álainn.
He brought up something about Italy, girls, and his new wife who also disappeared.
Lucky for him, it was his first wife. No warning signs were raised when he filed a missing person report in New York.
But it did raise a big red flag for me, and lucky for me, my favorite color is red.
“Let's get ye off this floor, yeah?” I shine the lamp throughout the warehouse, spotting a folded metal chair in the corner.
“Oh, perfect.” I grab it, dragging the legs of the chair to screech against the concrete.
I plop it right next to James, pulling down the metal seat and sitting.
I shine the lamp on the busted lad, who is currently lying in his own piss and shit.
“Don’t act scared now.” My upper lip curls in disgust. “This is your fault. Ye want to be a big boy in that business, ye get big boy consequences.” I lift his arm and place him into the seat.
I’d decided to duct tape his whole face when I abducted him, only leaving room around his nose to breathe— which is currently leaking snot everywhere.
I sigh, looking at his piss-stained suit pants, his white dress shirt spotted with crimson and dirt, all the way down to his broken toes, wondering when he lost his shoes.
“Don’t leave, yeah? I’m going to go get the rest of the supplies.” I set the lamp down near him, walking away, laughing. You will need to have a good amount of adrenaline and strength to want to walk around blind with all your toes broken and on the verge of frostbite.
I pull my black hoodie over my head when I exit the warehouse.
The only noise around me is the rain drumming against the building and the rustle of the trees.
If we don’t fix our roof soon, we will have a full-on lake inside.
I walk to my car, opening the truck, and bring out my bag of supplies and the rolling tray.
“Man, I just love the smell of rain,” I say when I enter the warehouse again.
“Ye think I should leave the door open? Air out the stench you’re leaving in here?
” I ask as I stand near the door, waiting.
We are miles from town, miles from the nearest main road.
Nobody will hear him, or me. “Nah, ye know what? I have a mask in here.” I hang my bag in the air as if James could see.
I set the bag at his feet, unzipping it and pulling out the surgical scalpel, the set of pliers, more duct tape, rubbing alcohol— “Oh, would you look at that! I found some rifle bullets. They must have fallen out of the box,” I tell him, turning to see him squirm in the seat.
“Do you have something to say?” I ask, grabbing the scalpel.
“Wait a second, lad! I’m getting a little ahead of myself.
It’s been a while since I have done this, it gets me all worked up.
” I shake my limbs, feeling my blood tingle my nerves.
I grab the plastic drop cloth out of my duffle bag, spreading it out over the floor.
“I hate a messy cleanup, ye know?” Walking back toward him, I push his body off the seat, watching him fall onto the floor on his left shoulder, landing in a grunt.
I pick up the chair, setting it directly in the middle of the cloth, then I grab his arm to walk him toward it—or more like drag him.
His feet slide across the concrete floor, making his skin get caught within the divots and debris of broken glass and nails.
I can hear him whine every time I pull harder when he gets stuck, and when I look over my shoulder, all I can see is the blood trail behind us.
I sit him down on the chair in front of me, dragging my rolling table and setting all my tools on top.
I kneel in front of him with my scalpel in hand.
“Let’s get this tape off of you.” I press my finger on his face where I would assume his lips would or should be.
When I think I find the location, I press the blade into the tape and slash it open.
His cry immediately erupts as crimson starts leaking from the opening I just made.
“Whoops, caught a little skin, didn’t I?
” I grab the opening of the tape and start to unravel it like a mummy, taking some of his eyebrow hairs, mustache, and a little bit the hair on his head.
Throwing the tape to the side, I see I cut the corner of his lip into his cheek.
“P-please!” he cries.
“Please, oh please!” I mock. “Ye think your missing wife is saying the same thing right now? Begging for her life? Begging for a savior?” I hiss, turning and walking away.
“I know you’re going to get me heated, so I might as well open the door.
Let that cool air in. I don’t like overheating while I’m working.
” I slam the door open, taking a deep inhale, and watch as the trees dance in the distance.
I stand there until I see the sky glow white.
I count in my head: one Mississippi, two Mississippi…
I make it all the way to ten and stop when the earth rumbles.
The lightning struck two miles away, which means I have to make this quick before I am electrocuted in this metal warehouse.
This weather and town forces me realize how much I’m accustomed to living in the city.
Hearing nature sounds rather than traffic and construction is like angels whispering into my ears.
I think I should start getting out of the concrete jungle more often.
Maybe take Lily somewhere nice up north?
I take a palm sized rock and place it near the door frame to keep it open.
When I turn around, James is sobbing with his head down. “I can make this real simple for you, only a couple of questions,” I say, walking toward him. “I need locations and names.”
“I don’t know, man. I swear!”
“Ye don’t know?” I pick up the pliers. “Ye don’t know where they sent your wife?”
"No! No! I don’t!” His eyes bug at the tool in my hand.
I snap, losing control, losing my accent, losing anyhumanity. I shove my fist into his busted mouth and pull his jaw down. I take the pliers and grip at his front tooth, securing the pliers in place, I start to tug. “Where is your wife, James?!”
He gargles as his snot and spit collects in the back of his throat.
“WHERE ARE THE WOMEN, JAMES?!”
I pull down, his tooth snapping out easily... “It’s fake?” I shove my fist into his mouth again to see his shaven down-tooth. Fucking veneers. “Typical.” I spit.
I walk around him and pull his tied-up hands through the opening of the chair. I grip the scalpel and rubbing alcohol and set them down next to me.
“Who’s involved, James? Who gives you orders?” I take the scalpel, wedging it under his short fingernail bed and lift up slightly to give myself a better grip with the pliers.
“Please! I don’t know who!”
“Oh, but I think you do!” I end my sentence with his fingernail tucked between my pliers, and I rip it right off. The raw, irritated skin barely leaks any blood due to his wrists being bound so tightly. I take the rubbing alcohol and pour it over his open skin.
He screams out, begging for mercy, begging for God.
God can’t save him, no one can. Not from me.
Not when I feel the heat soaring in my blood, not when I love seeing red against the white plastic cover on the floor.
Not when his begs and cries sound like lullabies' in my ears.
His mercy is that I will kill him—that's the type of mercy he will get. Either when I’m finished playing or when he gives me answers.
At the end of the day, he will die. I just hope that wherever they took his wife, she will have a less painful ending than him.
His screams go silent. When I get up and walk in front of him, I see that he’s passed out. I grab him by the back of his neck, sitting him up straight and slamming my fist into his abdomen. “Stay with me, James,” I grit between my teeth.
He throws up all over his slacks and I back away to avoid getting splashed.
“I bet your hungry after all that.” I grab the bullets I found in the bottom of my bag, “You know, when I was little, my mother used to make me soup when I was sick. It was this delicious potato and leek soup.” I rub the icy metal between my fingers.
“She used to tell me that eating made you feel better.” I grab his jaw, squeezing.
“Don’t you want to feel better, James?” I place my index finger into his mouth, pulling his jaw down. “Aren’t you hungry, James?”
When his jaw is open enough, I push the bullet inside.
“Swallow it,” I demand. The 7mm Rem Mag is not going to go down easy.
And if I were to keep him alive, it wouldn’t come out easy either.
I grab the rubbing alcohol. “Need something to drink with it?” I pour it down his throat, tipping his head back. “Swallow it!” I scream.
And he does. He does swallow the bullet. A little smile tips my lips. “What a good boy, James.” I slap his cheek in appraisal.
I walk behind him, ready to go at his fingernails again.
I kneel on the floor, grabbing the pliers. I doubt I will get answers from him, but if I have to take every man down one by one—
I close my eyes, my face sprayed with hot liquid and my ears ringing with a piercing echo. I drop the pliers and rub my hands down my face, grinning wide when I see them covered in red.
I then realize that the piercing echo was a gunshot, but there shouldn’t be anyone here but me.
I stand up, seeing Rowan standing in the doorway with his gun in the air.
I look down at James, his neck broken back over the chair, looking up at me with clear, lifeless eyes and a bullet hole lodge in the middle of his forehead.
“Goddammit, Rowan!” I yell.
“He won’t give you any answers,” he states as his loafers clink against the concrete.
“Well, I won’t ever know that for sure now, will I?” I point to James as his eyeballs slowly start to roll to the back of his head.
Rowan stares at me as if I’m speaking another language, his lashes blinking slowly. I huff, throwing the pliers on my tray. “It’s good to see you.”
“We have more work to do.” He turns around, heading back to the door.
“It’s good to see you too, Jace! I’m sorry I was gone for so long! I’m excited to get back to work! What have I
missed?!” I holler at him while he heads to the exit. “Fucker,” I whisper when the door slams.