“See, you keep doing shit like that, and it’s like you want me to make your death messy,” I say.
Crane’s laughter has a hysterical edge to it. “You’re the one on his knees, so I’d say you aren’t in the position to do much of anything other than bleed.”
“For now.”
Jamie pushes to her feet. She’s unstable as she struggles with the aftereffects of ket. If the drug was still active, she’d be in too much agony to stand, so at least the worst is over for her. Thank fucking God.
“Lyle, please make sure Mrs. Crane behaves.”
Lyle stows his weapon over his shoulder and wraps his arms around Jamie. “My pleasure, boss.”
She puts up a fight, but a curt shake of my head ends her struggle. I can’t concentrate on my battle if I’m distracted by hers. Thankfully, she understands what’s unspoken and tucks herself back behind her wall. I know she does this because she folds her hands in front of her and mottles the skin over her knuckles. But as long as she’s not locked in a fight with Lyle, I can focus on not screaming like a bitch no matter what Crane throws at me.
Owen keeps the gun on me, because what the fuck am I going to do strapped down to the goddamn floor and hunched over like an animal?
Crane saunters to the instrument table, picking at what’s there with a methodical leisure I’m sure is meant as an added an element of torment. And yeah, it’s working. In spades. He selects a knife and walks back to me and, with a single swipe, opens a gash over my Unholy lettering.
“How I hate this fucking tattoo,” he hisses.
I choke down the pain and say through gritted teeth, “That’s because you know you could never earn it.”
He slashes the tattoo again. “It represents trash.”
A third pass of the blade rains blood down my torso.
Crane returns to the table for a new weapon. In the pause, I avoid a glance at Jamie, but I hear her, the hushed whimpers more brutal than the blades that carved my flesh.
This time, Crane comes with the whip.Outstanding.This should be fun. He instructs Owen to cut off my shirt. The kid’s fumbling hands snip at the T-shirt with scissors until the material falls away in pieces.
When Owen finishes the task, Crane comes to stand behind me and unravels the leather with a resonating crack. My bladder clenches, and my stomach rolls. Crane, unfortunately, has a talent for tearing chunks of meat away from muscle and bone.
“David, don’t. Please.”
I close my eyes at Jamie’s ragged plea. My breathing is erratic, but I’m still in perfect control. Hopefully, the Unholy are handling shit topside and can stop this before Crane takes this too far. You know, like flays me. Or kills me.
“We haven’t even begun, and you’re already begging for him?”
I open my eyes and die inside when Jamie drops to her knees. “Get the fuck up.”
But she doesn’t. She kneels there. On the dirty floor. Practically at this motherfucker’s feet. For me. And I want to puke because I’m not worth the loss of her pride. “David, please, stop.”
“Shut the fuck up, Jamie,” I spit.
This scumbag doesn’t have an ounce of mercy. Not for me. Not for her. Not for anyone.
But Jamie ignores me. “Your fight is with me. I’m the one who betrayed you. Me. And I’m here, so take your revenge on me, and let him go.”
David saunters out from behind me, and his grin is nasty as hell. The kick to my head knocks me stupid for a second. Blacks out my vision, and the ringing in my ears drowns out Jamie’s screams. But I shake off the effects, and everything takes shape in time for me to see Crane get all up in her face. He slaps her to the floor, and while she’s down, he nails her in the stomach. He steps aside so Lyle can get in on the action, his booted feet wrecking her. And Owen, that jerkoff, is laughing so hard, he’s doubled over.
I destroy my wrists and ankles fighting against the restraints. “You fuck. You’re dead. All of you. Dead.”
Crane clasps his hands behind his back and paces in front of me. “Have you ever heard of a whipping boy, Wraith?”
I hock spit at Crane’s feet. “Go fuck yourself.”
He ignores me and continues. “A whipping boy was a child educated alongside a monarch. This child would receive corporal punishment for the monarch’s transgressions while the prince was forced to watch.” He slides a sinister glance at Jamie. “Consider yourself the prince, Wraith. Jamie is your whipping boy. Voice anything other than a plea for mercy or a scream of agony, and I’ll sew her mouth shut and beat her half to death.”
Oh Christ. Oh fuck.
