“Do you have weapons?” He asks, glancing at me from the driver's seat.
I pat my holsters on either side.
“A gun and a knife.”
After turning out of the warehouse, he smirks with his approval.
“The knife is always the way to go. Have you ever tortured someone and sewn them back up so you can start over again?”
“I can’t say that I have.”
He grins like the cat who ate the canary.
“When you find someone deserving of that level of torture, I’ll show you how I do it.”
The more I talk to him the more I understand his nickname. He’s an obvious psycho but then some people have earned that level of brutality.
I glance out the window for a few minutes, focusing on the things outside instead of Heather. The more I think about what she’s probably going through, the more it physically hurts. Her pain is my pain.
“You’re the oldest right? Did you teach your brothers, too?”
He makes another turn and clears his throat, and I wonder if family is an off limits topic for him.
“No. We all have our own methods of killing. None of us are the same in that regard. Bones breaks bones. Reaper prefers to strangle his victims. Kage will lock you up and watch you die, slowly. I don’t have the patience for that shit. I prefer the knife. I like the blood. It gets the job done, but visually-” He sighs, a sound of extreme pleasure escaping from his mouth.
“It’s beautiful. Watching blood drain from the body while they beg for relief. That’s my second favorite thing to watch.”
“And your first?”
He shakes his head with a chuckle.
“It involves my wife. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you for imagining it. Your family, though, so I wouldn’t end your life. But I would gouge your eyes out.”
“You really are a fucking psycho.” I say with a laugh but I’m not joking, at least not entirely.
He beams proudly, and I know he takes it as a compliment. I’m curious about all four of them. Especially Bones. Does he use something to break bones? Surely it isn’t with his bare hands.
“Are you a serial killer?”
“Nah. That’s Reaper and his girl Bella. Although my wife says I am, we disagree on the definition of aserial killer.I don’t kill people for sport even though I do enjoy it, but Reaper is a little different, or at least used to be.”
I stare at him in confusion, and he continues.
“Reaper used to kill just to kill, but that was before Bella. She likes to target disgusting men. Child molesters, wife beaters, pieces of shit like that. And whatever Bella wants, he will give it to her.”
I can’t help but smile, thinking of Heather, before I’m overcome with profound sadness.
Please stay alive, Little Heathen.
Psycho notices the change in my expression and reaches over to touch my shoulder before quickly retracting his hand.
“I’ve been where you are. It’s gut-wrenching, the pain of not knowing if you’ll find her alive. If we have anything to say about it, you will. In the meantime, cutting a bunch of fuckers helps. When my Hadley was taken, I walked into a bar and killed nearly every person in it. It didn’t bring her back, but it helped calm my mind.”
He is married to her now, so I know it worked out okay. I can only hope for a similar outcome.
I’m worried, not only that Noah will kill her, but that if we get her back, she’ll be broken beyond repair. Our girl isn’t afraid of anything, but when we asked who Noah was, it was clear—Heather was terrified at the mere mention of his name. My chest squeezes painfully, knowing wherever she is, she’s filled with terror.
If she’s still alive.
