Fuck around and find out sometimes means that karma makes you into a human toilet. I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them.
Chapter
Forty-One
ABBOTT
The sludge is suckedup into the shop vac and then the pipe is shoved into Clara’s mouth. I shove it so far down that she’s gagging on the pipe, while Lyle plugs her nose so she can’t breathe. I make sure her mouth is forced shut as well, while Easton steps on her bound wrists.
Cassidy and Bellamy both have masks on now because the smell is disgusting, watching in silent witness as we strip the last of Clara’s dignity from her. Lyle releases her nose so her reflexes force her to inhale, and the puke comes out her nose since it can’t go anywhere else.
Yep, that’s exactly as gross as it seems. We continue the treatment until she dies, which takes exactly twenty minutes. It’s a hard death, and only something I’d wish on my worst enemy.
Winchell listens to the sounds and sobs, because he can’t see what’s happening. Losing a sense is scary. It strips away one of the ways you process information, and it’s why it’s used to torture people.
“She’s gone,” Silas mutters. “I’ll have someone bring in a body bag and make sure she’s cremated. I’ll stand guard to see that it’s done.”
“Thank you,” I say, standing up.
The clean up crew is effective and quick, and the sewage pipe is put back where it belongs. It really deserves an MVP award if you ask me.
“Ready for this?” I ask, handing Cassidy the flamethrower.
Cassidy nods, taking it from me to get into position.
See? They have really good toys.
We all stand around her, while Ansel watches from the doorway. Once we’re situated, Winchell trembles on the hook, and Winter surprises me by getting up and removing her mask. I think the Vicks is doing its job, because she doesn’t make a face as she glares at Winchell.
“People aren’t inventory,” Winter says, standing like the royalty Ansel always says she is. “What kinds of businesses does he have, Shiloh?”
Standing next to me, he begins to rattle them off. He’s been researching. “Strip clubs, sex clubs, drug dealing, and I think he also sells people privately. He bought you and Bell from Clara because he wanted to fund a new business. He didn’t want to risk his own people for that.”
“Don’t forget your mask, Winter,” I remind her.
Once the mask is back on Winter’s face, I grin as Cass presses the trigger on the flamethrower. She aims low and moves her way up. The lick of the flames melt his skin, charring it as she gets up to Winchell Rock’s face.
I wonder if the man has an heir, and if we’ll need to go after him next. The nails keep Winchell’s eyes shut, not that they’d be very helpful anyway. The body continues to smolder as Cass releases the trigger, and I decide that my worries will keep for a little while.
I refuse to borrow trouble for ourselves. There is far too much of it out there as it is. Now, it’s time for us to heal.
Four days later
Winter sighs happily as she takes in the art piece in front of her. Today is her and Bellamy’s birthdays. It’s hard to believe that they were born on the same day, in the same year. Soulmates are sometimes like that.
The museum is completely silent outside of our movements. We’ve all scattered to different areas, and I decide to make it a point to choose a different art museum a month to go on a date.
It’s so chill, especially when you’re able to clear the museum for a few hours for a private visit.
“I can tell you love it here,” I say to Winter as we move to the next piece.
“It’s fun to imagine what artists were thinking about when they painted these,” she says, practically bouncing with excitement. “I bet most of them had no idea how famous they’d be.”
Considering so many of these artists were starving, I’m sure they didn’t know. I love experiencing this with her, and by the time we leave, I’m practically floating on air from her happiness.
The six of us walk to the entrance of the museum, and stop to thank the museum director for allowing me to organize this.
“It’s our pleasure,” he says with a smile. “Happy birthday.”
