Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Family is everything and comes above anything else.
That’s something my father engraved into me from a very young age.
I never argued with him, for he built a strong brotherhood where loyalty ruled, and I knew no one would ever betray him.
But some families bring just destruction.
And their loyalty to that destruction crushes souls, forever destroying them.”
Levi
Levi, 16 years old
“I don’t understand,” the man whispers, licking away the blood dripping from his nose on his busted lips while he pulls at the collar keeping him glued to the wall. Tight cuffs wrap around his ankles as his bare feet curl into the glass, and he hisses, “I’ve never done anything wrong in my life.”
“Is that so?” I ask, sliding my fingers over the glistening knives and not liking any of them.
All these tools are boring, even if they are expensive.
Still, I settle on the largest one made out of the finest steel and lift it, enjoying its weight in my palm as the man continues to talk, his voice so gravelly I barely resist the urge to cut off his tongue and feed it to him.
“I’m a teacher at the local school. I have a wife and three daughters, I’m an active member of my community, and I have never committed any crimes.
” A whimper escapes him, and I turn around to see him shift a little, the sharp glass digging into his heel at the action.
“If you let me go, I’ll plead your case with the district attorney. ”
My laughter is the only answer to his proposition.
“I’ll make sure he offers you a good deal if you help me.”
“Or he’ll offer me an even better one once he sees what I have on you.
” I tap the tip of the knife. “You have secrets, Ken.” His breathing speeds up.
“Secrets you like to hide in the basement where you have a camera and a bed, along with cuffs.” I move closer while anger zips through me, awakening the rage in my blood that ignites everything in its wake.
“Do you think the district attorney would love that?”
“I never touched them! I didn’t do anything to them.”
My hand flexes on the knife, but still, I keep my voice even and smile intact despite wishing to snap his fucking neck.
Patience, patience, patience.
“No. You just kidnapped them and then got off on their fear, snapping countless photos of them in their despair before giving them to their rapists.”
Ken used to be a hit man in his youth before he discovered perverted men were willing to pay any amount of money to do the dirty work for them, which included kidnapping their victims.
He operated on the dark web and took any requests, as long as they were willing to pay the price.
Any age. Any gender. His victims didn’t matter to him, and they joined his collection in the photo album he kept hidden, so he could get off on his trophies while playing the perfect family man to the world.
If people only knew what kind of evil might live next door to them and act like the most perfect person in the world, they’d learn to be more wary.
“I stopped this a long time ago,” he whispers, pushing against the wall harder as I come closer to him, and the pulse in his neck beats wildly. “I met my wife and had our daughters, and I left that life behind.”
The anger only intensifies, and I resist the desire to stab him right in the heart and watch him bleed to death.
Patience, patience, patience.
“I found God.”
“Don’t try to use God to cover up your crimes. You lay low because you almost got caught. When your last client deceived you.” He blinks and stills when I put the knife to his collarbone. “He called himself Robert.”
After my family took me in and showered me with everything, I grew up with two goals in mind.
To always make them proud for loving me despite knowing shit about me, and the fact that I was incapable of feeling the same emotions back. I created a whole different personality for them, the one I could present to the world, and be sane enough.
The monster living in me was protective of them, and I would kill anyone who so much as hurt my family, but love…I have no fucking idea what that is. They mean everything to me, and I’d die protecting them, but is it love?
I have no clue.
The second goal was to find my mother’s rapist and punish him for everything he did. My little secret no one could know about because it was my revenge.
It’s my right to end him and find my little sister.
It became a fixation and obsession on its own, and for me to succeed, I needed to be intelligent, cunning, and the best at whatever I decided to do.
Only a clear head would have allowed me to learn. However, going to my father to let him teach me was out of the question.
Since I acted as if I didn’t remember shit about my past, they believed me and tried to hide their dark deeds from me. Aileen doesn’t know anything.
I do, though.
So when the urges to inflict pain on those who deserve it became too much, I went to the only person I knew would help me, even if it meant going against my father.
Uncle Arson.
My father’s most loyal friend uses fire as his favorite weapon, torturing his victims until he burns them alive, and he enjoys every second of it. Half the time, even his friends consider him crazy and prefer to stay away, and not everyone can watch him play in his dungeon.
I mean, his own wife was his captive once. He saved her from a cult, became obsessed, and the rest is history. It’s a good thing Aunt Callista loves him, or Dad would have had to kill him.
My father operates an underground brotherhood that explores their vices in the darkest ways, torturing those who deserve it the most and making no apologies for it.
Dad found all my uncles on the streets at different stages of their lives, but they’d all already stepped onto the dark paths by then.
He just channeled their desires in the right way so they wouldn’t kill an innocent.
However, he warned them that should they ever lose their heads, harm a woman or a child, or try to force themselves on anyone in a physical way…he would kill them.
Strangely, Uncle Arson recognized my tendencies and didn’t even act surprised when I came to him.
In fact, it seemed as if he expected me.
The only thing he warned me about before stepping on this path is that it’s for forever, and if I ever start killing innocent people for the fun of it…he’ll end my life.
For him, that was a generous offer, probably for my father’s sake, so he wouldn’t have to be the one to end me.
My father and his friends are a lot of things…however, merciful, they are not.
Two years ago, I expected him to start teaching me by explaining how to use the weapons. To my surprise, he made me work on my stamina instead.
Long laps in all kinds of weather, swimming endless miles, hiking, and learning how to fight till I wouldn’t be able to breathe. Combined with my football practice, I lived and breathed sports, which alarmed my mom, but it helped clear my head.
He taught me how to shoot well, how to differentiate different types of guns and knives, and what specific torture devices there were to kill someone in the most painful ways.
How to cover up my tracks and leave no fingerprints, and start designing my own dungeon, because I could never kill someone wherever.
As he said…what he did was an art form that required strategy and intelligence, and if I acted like a blood-hungry idiot, he’d feed me to the alligators.
Once again, I believed him.
I mean, one of his friends has a lion as a pet. You do not question Uncle Arson.
Finally, he allowed me my first hunt.
A man who used to rape women and got away with it all the time because he belonged to the elite.
Killing him became the highlight of my existence as it brought me a step closer to killing Robert.
“Robert.” The man speaks up, snapping me out of my thoughts and bringing me back to the present.
Ken swallows hard and chokes on his blood a little when he does so, then spits on the floor.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he cries out when I press the knife hard against his collarbone until it breaks the skin and penetrates his flesh.
“Okay, okay. I remember something. Please stop.”
He’s my only link to Robert as of now because no searches gave me a name. I even asked Uncle Arson for help, and he couldn’t find anything.
“He was an asshole. Cocky, confident, and so rich he expected everyone to dance to his tune.” He rests his head against the wall as rage slowly builds up in my veins again.
“He got obsessed with this thirteen-year-old girl and wanted her.” The organ that pumps my blood contracts strangely at the mention of my mother, and I allow for this weird emotion to fuel the rage so it can grow and bring me strength.
“At first, I refused. The job was too risky. She frequently went to a library in town, and it was always crowded. Plus, she wasn’t stupid or naive, but very wary.
” He spits some more blood. “He was so obsessed, he offered triple the amount. I got the girl for him, and she fought me every step of the way.” Despite the situation, excitement blankets his gaze, and my hand clenches into a fist. “He didn’t appreciate that.
He was a crazy fucker. Got all jealous and shit over me touching her and refused to pay.
Instead, he sent the cops my way, so I had to flee.
” He stills when I drag the knife down to his stomach, and quickly adds, “I don’t know anything else.
He never gave me his full name, but I have the girl’s picture in one of my albums.”
He sighs in relief when I step back, happiness shining on his face because the idiot really thinks I’m going to let him go.
No one is more confident in getting away with crimes than a coward who lost humanity.
“You’ll let me go now, right?” He licks his chapped lips. “I gave you what you wanted. I’ll keep my mouth shut as if this never happened.”
“Of course you’ll keep your mouth shut.”