“Oops. Well, I told you to open. This is technically your fault. Although I can work with it.” I grab his busted lip with the pliers and start to pull, revealing his teeth. I keep pulling until he screams in pain and opens his grill. I make the most of the moment; I quickly let go of the lip and go for a canine. A fast and snapping movement from my wrist is all it takes to rip it off.
He tries to mumble something back at me, probably an insult. “That’s the only freebie you’ll get tonight. The rest is going to come off, slower and more painfully than that.” Blood gushes from his mouth like a brand-new fountain in a very popular and touristy place.
“Fuck you!” He grunts.
“Not what I wanted to hear.” I go for another tooth, this time an incisive from the top. “You’re making this fun for me. You know how much I love to pull teeth out.” I start to pull it slowly sideways and twist it a little bit.
Asad groans and shakes his body as much as he can. He’s jerking his head back, but I don’t lose grip of the tooth. Finally, it comes out. The blood coming from his mouth runs down his chin. He gasps for air and coughs repeatedly. He wants to curse, he wants to spit on my face, but just as the lesson goes— he can’t. Instead, he closes his eyes and tries to calm down.
Still holding his tooth with the pliers, I hold it in front of his face and whisper into his hear. “I’m waiting…”
“Alright, alright! I’ll talk…” He says, making me both happy and sad at the same time. Even though I want the information, I also want to keep working him. I know I’ve said he’d break quickly, but I didn’t think it would be this quickly. And to be completely honest, I was really enjoying it, more than I let him know. “There’s a detective named MacArthur, he’s the snitch,” he retches.
MacArthur. I was right. I knew there was something fishy about him, and now I know it for a fact. That’s why I don’t trust the government— it’s people like him I despise. They don’t hold their offices high and sadly for him, he won’t get a chance to mend it. I grab my cell from my pocket and text his name to Carter. He knows what I want.
He replies: OK.
So long, asshole.
“If he sang, why didn’t you show up in my house?”
“He wouldn’t dare give me your address!” He claims while still drooling blood mixed with saliva. “He went off the grid after giving me the information. He wouldn’t take my calls anymore.”
Dick for brains probably saw it coming. He knew he was dead the moment Sarah came to me for help —that’s why he bolted. Wherever he is, he’s not safe. Carter has eyes and ears everywhere around here.
“Why don’t you cut to the chase and ask what you really want to know?” He mumbles defiantly.
I see red for a moment.
Dante.
He knows.
I need to focus. I dive into silence, gathering my thoughts, thinking carefully about the words I want to use. In that silence, I notice I’m still holding the pliers. Already going for his fingernails. Pulled one-off like it was a splinter.
“What are you doing!? You fucking psychopath! I’m already talking. Why did you do that?” He screams.
“Because I could,” I say.
“Ask a question, please, I beg you.”Beg, check.
“You’re giving me orders now, aren’t you? Maybe you need me to keep giving you a manicure.”
“No, no. Please, don’t. Stop it, have mercy.”Claim for mercy, check.
I walk behind him, grab his hair and pull his head back. The fucker starts praying.
“Your god is not going to save you. Not him, not anybody. You’re all alone with me.”
“Allah will save me. He holds my future in his hands.”
“Wrong. I hold your destiny in my hands because you don’t have a future. I’m your god tonight. Tell me I’m your god.”
He sobs and remains silent.
“Say it!”
“Why are you doing this?”
