I close my eyes as, one by one, the rest of the members in the room vote unanimously in favor of Sundown’s execution. When I reopen my eyes, Sundown is in the same spot, beaten before we even begin.
Because he knows.
He fuckingknows.
“It’s gonna be a mighty long night for you, you traitorous motherfucker.” Then to Jester, I say, “Get him in the truck. He’s going to the mill.”
Because we don’t shit where we eat.
We bring our trash to the abandoned mill on the edge of Mayhem, where there’s privacy. Where the only things that surround us are our secrets and our sins.
Where no one will hear him scream.
Where we can take our time to dispose of him like the waste he is.
20
HAVOC
It’s not the cold or the drone of Sundown’s sobs or his stink of fear. Nor even the coppery tang of his blood that flavors the air. The space heater works to keep it semi-warm-ish despite the bitter night chill blowing in from the mountains. And we’ve established I’m not the squeamish sort. So, what the fuck is wrong with me? I should be enjoying this moment. Instead, there’s an emptiness sitting in the center of my chest. A…loneliness…fucking with my head. Like a piece of me is gone.
Torn out when Kerri went back to Brighton.
This is bullshit.
This isn’t me.
I wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for Patricia-fucking-Caldwell and her asshole brother. As for Sundown…
“Are we having fun yet, scumbag?” I shove Sundown’s shoulder.
He snorts out a wad of blood in answer. That’s my fault. I might have, maybe, been a little too enthusiastic when Jester and I first got him to the mill. Perhaps I hit him too hard in the face a few times.
Oops.
I fucked up his nose.
Sundown wrestles against the duct tape binding him to the metal chair in the center of the abandoned building. “Please. I’m sorry, Havoc. Please don’t do this. Make it quick.”
Itskas I run my fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. Then I curl them and yank the brown strands, jerking his head, forcing him to meet my ruthless eyes. “It’s because you were one of us that I’m going to drag this out all fucking night.”
Then I release his hair, wipe my hand on my jeans, and pace in front of him. Stroll the width of the weathered but sturdy building to keep control of my temper. The immediate area is lit by five LED camping lanterns arranged in a ring around the plastic sheeting we spread under Sundown. Moonlight seeps through the exterior boards, giving everything an eerie glow. The musty smell and creaks and cracks that sound as the building breathes add to the ambiance.
This is our place, out on the edge of Mayhem. It’s isolated. Private. The perfect place for us to do…what we do. When we need to do it slow and sadistically.
“I swear to God, Havoc, he told me he only wanted the girl.”
“This motherfucker.” Jester snorts out a laugh as he hands me a syringe.
Sundown pales because he’s aware of what will happen here.
“Thank you, my man,” I say to Jester.
“You’re very welcome.” Jester cringes. “I almost feel bad for wanting to see this in action.”
Can’t say I blame him. Ketaphrin is the drug David Crane pumped into Wraith. That sadistic bastard put this shit in him every fucking day as an added level of torture.Every day. Then forced him to fight for his survival in sick gladiator games. Used another drug to heal him, only to do it all again. Over and over. For six months.
Wraith wanted to come tonight, but Jester and I decided we didn’t want him around Ketaphrin after what he endured while at Gomorrah—Crane’s mini kingdom in Florida. We destroyed it, of course. Burned it to the fucking ground after he and Jamie escaped. He said he put that part of his life to rest, but with what I have planned for Sundown…
