His breathing quickens, but he stays quiet as he fights the pain.
I go back to my bag and retrieve the bottle of rubbing alcohol. Twisting off the cap, I pour a few drops onto the open wound.
Brent shouts through the gag as he winces, his eyes slamming shut as he tries to control his breathing.
“Now, let’s try this again. And if you scream, I’ll cut your dick and dip it in the alcohol. Do you want that?”
Brent shakes his head no.
I remove the gag, ready to slam it back in if I need to.
But other than Brent’s heavy pants, he’s silent.
“So, tell me what you did to Daphne that night.”
“I’m telling you, man. I didn’t do anything.”
The gag goes back in as I locate my next spot. I stand up and make a move like I’m going back to my bag, but instead make a decent nick on the top of his foot.
Brent cries out in shock, mingled with pain. When I drop more alcohol on the wound, he screams.
Once he’s silent again, I remove the gag. “Tell me what you did, or I start slicing.” Please talk, Asshat. I hate blood, and the sooner I get this over with, the less likely I am to throw up.
“We…we had sex.”
Well, we’re getting more than a blanket denial. That’s a start. “That wasn’t sex, Brent.”
Brent nods furiously, “It was. She wanted it.”
Mother fucker. The more I’m stuck breathing the same air as this cumstain, the more I want to plunge my knife through his heart and be done with him.
But Daphne deserves answers. I can be patient. For her.
“You know, I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to get to the slicing.” I take a square inch off his injured tricep. Every time he tries to fight, his dislocated shoulder moves under the skin, and my stomach fights itself to not vomit.
Seriously, how did my brother become a doctor when I can’t even get through making a small cut on a fully grown man? He stole all the non-squeamish genes.
The sliver of skin falls on the bed, and I look away like I’m busy inspecting the ropes and not trying to avoid looking at my handiwork.
Brent’s eyes water, and tears stream down into his hairline above his ears.
“Let’s try again,” I say as I yank the gag out. “What happened that night?”
“I told you… We had sex. She wanted it.”
This is going to get real old, real quick. I don’t know if my stomach can handle Brent bleeding a slow death.
Returning to my bag, I retrieve the taser. I make sure Brent’s watching as I test it. Bluish-white streaks zip between the metal barbs.
“You know, these hurt like a bitch,” I warn. “But as soon as it stops, the pain goes away. I brought spare batteries so that I can keep this thing on all night long.”
Brent’s eyes widen as he shakes his head.
“We’re going to test it, so you can see what I mean.”
Brent’s bucking on the bed in protest as I press the taser to the back of his thighs and turn it on.
Immediately, the stink of burned hair fills the room, the hairs on his legs singed away. I leave the taser going while Brent twitches for a few seconds.
