Grabbing the chair from my workbench, I tugged on her hand, bringing her into the back corner to sit down. "You can sit here while I work. This way, you don't get anything messy on your pretty dress." Fingering the strap on her shoulders, remembering how my eyes wanted to pop out of my head when she came out of the bathroom this morning wearing it. I thought about killing everyone in the house so my brothers and I could be the only ones to see her be this gorgeous. She glowed with a radiance that none of us could touch.
I turned, clapping more to myself than anyone. "Now. Let's get this done quickly so I can spend the day with you doing fun things. Do you like festivals?"
Her eyes went to the door and then back to the man hanging. Why was she always looking at him? It felt like a noose was around my throat, tightening slowly as it made my muscles strain. Running my tongue along my teeth, I felt this rising heat taking over my body and the urge to just kill that bastard ran deep. It was the only thing I could focus on. I wonder how long it would take him to die?
"Don't you think that man will follow us? How could we have any fun?"
Her voice pulled me from my mind and I laughed, looking down to see I was already at my tool table. Picking up a large chef's knife first, then a long sharpening rod. "The guy outside?" She nodded, and I laughed again, running the knife along the sharpening rod. "Ya, no, I can get rid of him. As long as you're here for this and my father thinks you're significantly scared enough, he won't spend the resources to come after me. Unlike Nicu and Ion, as long as I do what he says, he lets his killer dog run free."
Her brows pinched and her lips turned down. Concern filled her eyes as she looked at me. I didn't like that. I wanted her to always smile while she was with me. I had to fix that. Throwing down the knife and rod with a loud clank, I took a few steps closer to her, cupping her face like she did to me earlier. "I don't mind that he doesn't care about me. I’ve known that for a very long time." Running my thumb along her cheek, I realized how true those words were. "He does a lot more mind fucking with Nicu and Ion ever since he broke mine. Now, he doesn't find me fun to play with, but jokes on him. I'm a ball of fun to play with, right?"
Zia's lips turned up, nodding even as the sadness spilled out of her eyes. "You're lots of fun," then she turned her head and kissed the palm of my hand.
That feeling of spiders crawling, bursted from my heart and running up and down my body raced, giving me a second of that feeling alive spark that she caused in me. It was pure and addicting…and I wanted more. The guy strung up whimpered in the background, ruining the whole moment and my lip curled up as I kept my growl in. I needed to get this done asap.
Letting her go, I grabbed the bucket of water off to the side, stomped up to the man hanging, and dumped it on him. He gasped out, his eyes going so wide the whites of his eyes were on full display as he moved his head back and forth, looking around and shaking.
"Wakey, wakey, hands off steaky."
His poop-brown eyes found mine, and he began crying out in Armenian, asking me not to do this. I responded to him that this was his fault and that if he had just followed the proper procedure in dealing drugs, he wouldn't be in this predicament. He wouldn't have made an enemy of the 'Butcher.'
I always thought my father's nickname was ridiculous. What kind of butchering did he ever do? I saw the crime photos; it was a hacking job at best. No precision, no clean lines or cuts at the tendons. It was a disgrace to those who actually had the profession.
This man was full of excuses, none that I hadn't heard before, crying about his family, that he had several mouths to feed. I was glad Zia didn't know Armenian since I didn't want her to be bored with this part of the process. Getting out all of their excuses, all their words, all their thoughts, so when the pain came, they knew they only had enough words and thoughts to answer my questions. That was it.
Running my hands over the tools at my disposal, going through my head to figure out which would be the fastest. I could start cutting him, but then I don't know if he's going to be one of those who’ll take a thousand cuts or twenty before they let the fear take over. Waterboarding was a possibility, but so was the old faithful option of cutting off his dick or balls. If he was too much of a bleeder, he might die before I could get the information. I could collar him and have a walling party, but again, I wanted to get this done as soon as possible.
Decisions, Decisions.This was so much easier when I had all the time in the world and didn't give a shit about anything but their next scream.
The life of a boyfriend, bro.
Cal's little interruption pissed me so much that I shook as I yelled, "Husband! Fucking Husband!" Picking up the knife, I stabbed the man in the vastus lateralis. He screamed at me, yelling that I never asked him a question before I stabbed him in the leg. Oh… I guess I didn't.
I gave him my most heartfelt apology, all in Armenian, before I asked him who his supplier was. His face got white, and his loose lips tightened.And that, my friends, is why I stab first.
Moving to the screwdriver, I thrust it into his upper arm before he had a moment to think, making sure I went in sideways to hit a couple of nerves and then yanked it back out. Hot crimson liquid sprayed along the walls, floor, and my arm. His cries echoed, bouncing around the room, singing to me like it was my own private concert. The tears and sweat combo carved down his distraught face, and I laughed, thanking him for such a good show.
His eyes started to droop as he mumbled out some nonsense, and I smacked him a few times, not wanting him to ruin this moment for us. We were just starting to get along.
A gasp from the corner reminded me of who was waiting and watching, and this revived my need to shine and show my lovely Romani bride my worth.
I asked him again who his supplier was, and he babbled on, trying to tell me their facial features, but I knew this game and didn't have time for it. Grabbing him by the face, squeezing so hard that he had to open his mouth, I informed him on all the functions that a tongue served and how useful it was. This had him thrashing about, thinking that he could overpower me if he just had enough strength, but that wasn't possible when he had been hanging here for over twelve hours. Silly wombat.
Flipping open my switchblade, I ran it along his cheek, letting him feel the cool, sharp metal before shoving it into his mouth. He stilled, opening his mouth wider so I didn't cut up all of his mouth, but he should know that only got me more excited. Running the blade along the center of his tongue, I slashed down, telling him not to move unless he wanted to become a snake with two tongues.
Blood pooled quickly, and I told him that it was one of the places of the body that bled a lot. His fearful eyes caught mine, and I smiled, lifting up his chin so that blood clogged his throat, causing him to choke. I didn't let go until his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his body was seconds away from giving up. I couldn't have him passing out now, could I?
He spat out the blood like I knew he would, his body going into survival mode as he mumbled out a name. I asked him a few times to repeat himself, asking him if he was sure, and he nodded, telling me his name again and again until I believed him and he slumped forward in the chains. Crimson stained the front of his face like he was a vampire, and I chuckled at the thought. A vampire bleeding to death? Now that's poetic.
"Is he dead?"
My roma's voice came right beside me, and I almost shrieked in fright. I was not about to admit that, so I shook my head, making my voice deeper. "No. He's just passed out from blood loss, but if I keep him hanging for another…. Ummmm hour, he'll die."
Glancing at her from my peripherals, I watched her lean forward, looking at everything like she was examining a diagram. She walked around the whole body, making sure not to step in too much blood, but at this point, it was impossible.
She didn't say anything for the longest time, and my insides were cracking open. I needed to know what she thought. Did she find me disgusting? Repulsive? I told myself that it didn't matter, but now that we were here, it mattered so much. Like all the much.
"Do you always hang them up?"
