CHAPTER SEVENTEEN RYKER
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
RYKER
THEN
THREE MONTHS AGO
Blood coats my hands. Actually, it coats my whole body, and the ground, and the chair the fucker is tied to.
Not for the first time, I wonder how it’s possible for so much blood to run through our veins that it can make such a mess, but I’m pulled from my thoughts by another long scream.
God, this asshole is a screamer, and I’m sick of the whining.
I mean sure, I’ve just got done cutting off all the toes from his left foot, and he’s missing more than a few teeth, but does he have to be such a baby about it?
Especially seeing as he had no problems killing three women in the last six months, moving from town to town, gaining the trust of widows just to torture and kill them.
I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say this asshole hasn’t felt even a fraction of the pain he’s inflicted, and he’s acting like a little bitch about it.
“You know, Graham, I thought you’d at least take it like a man,” I sigh, turning my back on him to choose my next tool.
We’ve been at this for a few hours, but I’m growing bored already.
I used to live for this shit, for dragging out their pain until I was ready for them to meet their maker, but even knowing the good I’m doing for the world by removing them from it, there’s something missing.
Just the thought has me shaking my head. There’s no room in my life for anything more than this, and I’m not about to give up wiping assholes like this off the earth.
It’s a public service really.
My fingers hover over the knives as I ponder what to do next. It’s been a while since I’ve cut someone’s cock off, but I don’t have the stomach for that today, even if he absolutely deserves it.
The other foot is tempting but he might bleed out too quickly if I cut off any more appendages, and there’s far too much for him to repent for to let him out of his misery just yet.
Deciding an ear probably won’t bleed too much, I select a small knife that’s not nearly as sharp as some of the others, ensuring more pain for my guest.
There are a handful of locations across the country that I work out of, but this one in West Virginia is one of my favorites. It’s isolated enough I don’t have to worry about anyone accidentally stumbling across it, and the forest outside makes for a nice backdrop for the time between sessions.
Turning back to the bleeding mess in the center of the room, I sigh.
He’s crying.
“Tell me something, G. Did you feel bad for Becky when she cried? Did you lessen her pain when she begged?” I quirk a brow, leaning back against the table of knives. “Or did you enjoy them?”
“Please stop,” he sobs, his cheeks red with both blood and from crying. “We can work something out. You don’t have to do this.”
I chuckle. “Actually, I do. See, where you get off on raping and killing grieving widows, I get off on torturing sick fucks like you. Plus, it’s kinda my job.” I shrug.
It didn’t used to be. It used to be a way to work out my own demons, to repent for losing my sister to a man not dissimilar to the one in front of me.
Except I never got to kill him. No one did.
He’s a fucking ghost I’ll spend the rest of my life hunting.
“I have money,” he chokes out, on a sob or the blood in his mouth, I’m not sure.
Ah, one of my favorite parts.
Bargaining.
“Hmm.” I tap the blade against my cheek, pretending to consider the offer.
There’s no amount of money on earth that would tempt me to let this piece of human garbage walk out of here breathing, but I like to entertain their delusions.
It makes it all the most fun when they realize they’re going to die here.
“I’m already getting paid a pretty penny to kill you, but perhaps there’s a deal to be made. ”
Some of the hope fades from his eyes. “I have a few thousand tucked away in an account.”
A booming laugh fills the concrete room and it takes me a second to realize it came from me. “A few thousand? Is that all your life is worth to you?”
He shakes his head, fear etching into his dull brown eyes just the way I like. “I can get more. If you let me go, I can get you more.”
I push off the table and move closer, reveling in the terror that watches every step I take.
“So you’re telling me, if I let you walk out of here”—my gaze drops to his mangled foot— “hop out of here, that you’re not only going to never tell a soul who’s responsible for your injuries, but you’re also going to somehow gain access to more than the few measly grand you have hidden away, and you’re going to give it to me, the man intent on killing you?
Have I got all that right? Because it sounds kinda far-fetched to me. ”
“I promise I’m good for it,” he pleads.
Huffing out a disinterested sigh, I crouch in front of him, forcing him to look me in the eye.
“And this plan you have to buy your life, does it involve manipulating grieving women, kidnapping them and slicing them up until they’re unrecognizable before taking the life insurance from their late partner? ”
I’m not certain how he only has a few thousand dollars saved considering the money he stole from the women he murdered comes to close to half a million, but from the way his face turns ashen, he probably didn’t think I knew about that.
Rookie error.
He shakes his head, his body vibrating with fear.
There are few things I love as much as watching the moment a man realizes they’re going to die, but I’m interrupted when my phone starts vibrating on the table behind me.
“For fuck’s sake,” I growl under my breath.
I shove myself to my feet and stalk toward the offending device, but when I see my boss's name lighting up the screen, I know I can’t send him to voicemail.
“What?” I snap.
“Is your guest misbehaving?”
“No, you’re interrupting a very important chat.”
He chuckles. “I won’t keep you long then. I just wanted to let you know you’ll be heading to New York once you’re done with him.”
My brow furrows. I don’t recall seeing anything in the area recently, but maybe something has popped up over the last couple of days while I’ve had my hands full with whiny Graham.
“What’s the job?”
“Security.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll send you the file, but I need you to watch her for the foreseeable future.”
“Watch her?”
“I didn’t realize you were hard of hearing, Ry.”
“I’m just unclear why you would send me on a security job when there’s a mountain of assholes to be killed sitting on your desk.”
“That’s not important. You will head to New York once you’re done there, and if you have any complaints about it, I’m sure your captive audience would be more than happy to hear about it.”
He hangs up before I can reply, and I drop the phone to the table, not bothering to make sure it doesn’t bounce off onto the floor.
I force a few angry breaths into my lungs before turning back to Graham with the knife clenched in my hand.
Maybe taking both ears will make me feel better.