Dinner is a rowdy affair, but Lorenzo, when he’s not flirting outrageously with Penelope, shoots death glares in my and Carla’s direction all night. I thought Dad would call the two of them out, but I can see he genuinely doesn’t care. Nobody looked at him with pity, instead they threw disapproving glances at Penelope all night. They know who butters their bread. I’m thankful when it finally comes to an end and I’m allowed to retire to my bed.
The top floor of the hotel is reserved for the owner and his friends, and I have a suite to myself. I strip off all my clothes and run a bubble bath. Settling down, I scroll through my social media, unable to not check in on what my ex-best friend is posting.
It’s only been one day since the incident in school, but it feels like a lifetime. My life has changed so much in the last twenty-four hours I can’t even relate to the things that are appearing on my feed from all my school “friends.”
Stacey’s “Loving my life and being on top” post almost has me throwing my phone across the room. There are photos with Nicki, Fiona, and Felicity, as well as a whole group of students that I recognize as the popular kids who hang out with Nikki and a lot of the football team. My finger hovers over the unfriend button, but then I decide that because Stacey can’t help but update her feed every couple of hours, it’s a good way of keeping track of her. Silly of her, really, but it shows that she truly doesn’t expect me to retaliate or be a threat. When I’m finally ready to deal with her, I’ll be able to find her.
As I scroll through my feed, I find post after disgusting suggestive post from random people who have seen the video. Changing it from public to private and unfriending all the perverts goes a long way in making me feel a little more in control.
The water pours off my body as I step from the bath and wrap myself in one of the fluffy robes the room offers. There was a complimentary bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket of ice when I entered the room—I guess they don’t care that I’m only eighteen, perks of being the boss’s daughter, I suppose—so I pop the cork and pour myself a glass before I shove the key card in one pocket and my Glock in the other. I take the elevator up to a private garden on the roof, which is only accessible with certain cards, and take a seat on the daybed to look at the stars.
It’s relatively peaceful up here. Even the echo of the traffic below is a dull background noise. It’s a little bit chilly, but my robe does enough to keep the wind off. My ears finally stopped ringing just before dinner, and everyone at the table, except Penelope and Lorenzo, had a good laugh when Carla told them all about my little problem. One of the others assured me it’s normal and that it happened to everyone occasionally. One of the other guys chuckled and said, “At least you hit him. There’s nothing worse than having to duck from a bullet pinging off a surface in enclosed spaces.” Again, the table had a laugh, and everyone told a story about other kinds of mishaps. There was even a guy called One Ear Ernie. Apparently he was in a shoot-out with a rival mob, and one of his guys was behind him and his bullet grazed Ernie’s ear on the way past. The top part of the shell is missing from the mishap.
Note to self: never stand in front of anyone during a shoot-out.
I stay up here long enough to polish off the bottle of champagne. A little unsteady on my feet, I get back into the elevator and head to my room. I know that my slumber will be nightmare free and my mind will be able to shut down now that it has an alcohol buzz. I’m hoping one day, maybe after I get my revenge on Stacey, I will no longer wake up in cold sweats with phantom aches from something I can’t even remember.
* * *
“The thing about interrogation is that you need to decide what you want to achieve,” Gio informs me as he pulls his car up to a nondescript building in the warehouse district. We get out, and he leads us through a door on the side of the building. There’s a guard located inside who nods at us as we go past him and head down a set of stairs. At the end of the staircase, Gio puts a code into a keypad and the heavy door swings open, allowing us entrance. We step inside the room where there’s a table and a few chairs, but apart from that, it’s barren and empty. The only other noticeable thing about the space is the viewing window that looks into another room. That one is a little more interesting.
That room is covered in white tile with bright lights, and there’s a chair with straps to secure someone to it. Next to the chair are some chains, which hang from a hook, and in the chair is Eddie, who has a black eye and looks decidedly more rumpled compared to yesterday. He also appears like he may have been crying. Next to him, just out of reach, is a table with all sorts of instruments on it.
Gio gestures for me to sit in the room, and we watch Ed from this side. “More often than not, the anticipation is enough to get them to crack. With normal interrogations, we could walk in there and the person would beg to tell us everything we want to know. Then there are the ones who are going to require a little more encouragement. Ed here is just being punished, and sometimes that’s all that will be needed as well.”
I watch Gio, and I’m amazed at what I see. He has so many masks, but I’m not sure if this is one or if he normally wears one with me and this is how he is now. I imagine this kind of life will change your very being. I know from experience how something can rock your foundations and practically rewrite your existence. He takes out a smoke and puts it in his mouth, lighting it. He takes a puff and then passes it to me.
“The other thing you need to consider is whether they need to be killed or spared. Sometimes if we’re going to kill them anyway, torture is redundant. No one can withstand pain past a certain point, and if we inflict a body with too much pain, it just shuts down, and then they are useless to us anyway. Most of the time if we’re going to kill them, we will inject them with sodium pentothal. It’s a truth serum of sorts. It decreases both higher cortical function in the brain and inhibition, which tends to make subjects verbose and cooperative. We’ve used it quite effectively. We then put a bullet in their brain once we’re done. Minimal fuss and a lot less tears.”
He looks to see if I’m still following along, and I swallow the lump in my throat and nod for him to continue.
“Then there are the subjects we can’t kill. Whether we need to send a message back to whoever they work for, or if they have information we need and haven’t done anything that deserves a bullet, we have to work a fine line between roughing them up enough to send a message or encouraging them to find a new line of work and not going so far that they are useless to us. Again, I can often go in there and sharpen a few knives and test the electric probes and a few other dramatic things, and they will cave before a drop of blood is drawn. I’ll still need to beat the crap out of them, though, so nobody thinks I’ve gone soft.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “And then there are the assholes who think they are tough and I can’t beat them. They are the ones who we actually have to do things with. Today, I’m going to show you the best kind of techniques to get what we need.” He stands up.
There is a bundle of nerves in my stomach that are more like pterodactyls than butterflies, and I wonder if I’m going to be able to do this. Shooting him yesterday was easy, since it was from a distance and it wasn’t so in the face. This, right here, is up close and personal. Am I going to be able to deal with all that entails emotionally and physically?
“Remember that man in there is a rapist, and what we are going to do to him is no worse than what he did to Misty yesterday, okay? What he did to her was just another kind of torture, and Ed is never going to see the light of day again. If you need to show emotions or vomit, it’s fine this time, but after today, if at any stage it gets to be too much, just walk out. Walk out and catch your breath, but whatever you do, don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you break. You ready?” he asks, and I take a deep breath and blow it out.
There’s a tingle in my stomach, but I don’t know if it’s from nerves or excitement, and if I look at it too closely, I might have to admit once and for all that I’m not right in the head. Who gets excited about learning torture techniques?
He steps up and puts his hands on my shoulders. Gone is the stone-cold killer, my loving brother has returned. “Tori, you don’t have to do this. Dad gave you an out. You can move to the other side of the country and change your name and live your life however you want to. We will have to be sneaky about how we see one another, but you will be far away from all the illegal activities, plotting, and scheming, and your life will be safe and, most importantly, under your control.”
Biting my lip and staring at my feet, I take a moment to really think about it. When Dad said it before, there was no question about me wanting to stay. Blood over everything, but can I really see myself doing this? I look back at my life more closely. I’ve never really had any super close friends except for Stacey, and that’s because she forced me to be her friend in the first place. I now know this for the lie it was. I knew Gwen and Louise from school, but we didn’t hang out when we weren’t at school. I’ve always been closer with Gio and would rather hang out with him and Dad on the weekends or go to my self-defense classes than have normal teenage experiences.
I would look at the popular groups and watch interactions between other friends and wonder why I couldn’t make the same connections. Then again, I also didn’t want to bother myself with all the ridiculous trite social posing that would occur. I was always much happier with my own company. No, it’s nice being treated like an adult, and I can’t deny that I got a rush out of being underestimated and then shooting Ed in the leg. Learning about all of Dad’s illegal activities didn’t faze me at all whatsoever, and I am eager and excited to learn more.
Gio is smiling when I finally stop thinking about it and meet his eyes to give him my decision. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
He gives me a kiss on the cheek. “I knew you’d feel that way, but I felt like I still had to remind you of the offer.”
“Come on, let’s go deal with the scumbag rapist. When I spoke to Carla this morning, she told me that poor Misty was all torn up and would need some time off to recover. Joe just about shit his pants yesterday when we questioned him, but Ed threatened his life, said he’d tell Lorenzo that it was him messing with the girls. Apparently, Ed might be a little bit bent and needs another guy in the room to get off. Bill said he made all the security guards join in,” I tell him as we get to the door. “Maybe we should have brought Sage in to help with the torment, especially if he’s as far in the closet as I think he is.”
Gio snorts. “I could just imagine Sage here. I’m pretty sure he’d be hysterical before the first drop of blood even hit the floor.”
I think back to how he’d been yesterday morning just before I ruined it and licked him. It was almost like he had known what I was talking about and could relate. Gio did say that Dad rescued him from his foster parents, so maybe he’s had the same kind of experiences.
“You know, I think Sage would surprise you.” I make sure I have my resting bitch face in place before pushing the door open and walking in.
The bright lights make me blink, and when Ed comes into focus, he is smirking at me, but I can tell by the way he’s gritting his teeth and sweat shines on his skin that he’s in pain.
