“I have everything I need here. And those central beams that someone was nice enough to place in here will be perfect,” I replied.
“Then we’ll stand back and watch the show,” Hoss said.
I inspected the beams and shook the vertical ones attached to see how stable they were—nothing budged. Fantastic. Then I went to stand before Sam. He’d let his head drop, so I grabbed the hair at the top of his head and lifted it.
“You can’t get away with this,” he croaked.
“Oh, but I can. See, no one saw you clearly, and the police have no idea who shot Anastasia. It’s being considered a robbery gone wrong. But even if someone connects our recent court trouble with the shooting, they’ll find that you’ve disappeared. How does that have anything to do with me?”
“There are cameras,” he said.
“Oh, but those show nothing or were on the fritz. It’s great to be friends with people who can take care of stuff like that. You ran from the scene. That’s the last anyone saw you,” I added.
I saw the fear enter his expression.
“So, kill me and get this over with,” he hissed.
“I would’ve left you alone if you had done the same. But you thought you’d take her away from me by killing me. You shot my fucking woman! The one you claim to want. That sealed your cocksucking fate,” I snapped.
“I never meant to hurt her. She jumped in front of you,” he protested, like that made a difference.
“She did. That’s what one does when you love someone. You wouldn’t understand it because you’ve never loved anyone or had someone love you. You coveted what wasn’t yours. You and her fucked up family plotted to trap her in a marriage that would’ve made her life a living hell. And when you failed at every turn, you decided killing me would do the trick. News flash, even if you had killed me, Anastasia would’ve never accepted you.”
He stayed quiet. I saw more despair enter his face.
“I’ll go far away. You won’t ever see me again. I’ll leave you two alone. If you let me go, I’ll never say a word to anyone.”
“Do I look stupid enough to believe you? You’re lying to save your hide. Shut up because it won’t work. If you have any last words you want to say to your maker, do it now, but say them to yourself,” I ordered, dropping his head.
Then, I turned my back on him and returned to where I had left my bag on the floor next to my friends.
“What’re you gonna do to him?” Mikail asked. The other guys came closer to hear.
“I’m a rope master in the art of shibari. Before it was a part of kink, shibari was known by other terms, and the ancient samurai developed many of them. My master taught me the ancient history behind rope bondage. I plan to use my knowledge of ropes and implement tsurushi, which means suspension or hanging. It’s a brutal way to torture someone. It was used in feudal times to coerce confessions and information, as well as to kill. I hope everyone will enjoy the lesson,” I said darkly as I turned to stare at a sick-looking Sam. I let myself begin to sink into the headspace I’d need to do this.
Sinner: Chapter 21
After I meditated to get myself in the right frame of mind, I asked Rurik to move Sam to where two vertical poles were close together, with the horizontal support above, and to lie him flat on his back on the floor.
As they did, I stripped myself down to only the sweatpants I’d been wearing at the hospital. I had a clean pair to put on afterward. The cement felt rough under my bare feet, but that sensation helped to ground me.
From my bag, I removed several ropes that were much longer than the twenty-four to twenty-six-foot ones I used in shibari. Walking over to where Sam and his guards stood, I didn’t delay getting to work. Nor did I waste time talking.
First, I took a rope, and I bound Sam’s body from shoulders to ankles in loop after loop of it. I made sure to use overhand knots and other knots and cinches to prevent slippage and tighten the rope as much as possible. Unlike in sensual play, I wanted to cause pain and restrict blood flow. I didn’t give a damn if he turned fucking blue or his body was lacerated.
Once I had him bound the way I wanted, I tossed another rope over the horizontal beam, then tied one end around his ankles. I slipped on a pair of leather gloves and began hoisting him in the air. Figuring out what I was doing, Rurik grabbed the rope and helped me. He had gloves on already. Maybe in anticipation of beating on Sam a bit.
When Sam was suspended with his head a few feet above the ground, we tied off the end of the rope to one of the vertical columns. I spoke to the others.
“This will take a while. You might want to take a break, or even go home and rest. It’ll take time for the blood from his body to rush to his head. As the pressure increases, it’ll cause swelling and an agonizing headache. Eventually, without relief, the brain will hemorrhage, and he’ll begin to bleed out his ears, eyes, and nose. The oxygen to his brain will decrease because his abdominal organs will compress his lungs, making it hard to breathe, and he’ll have a stroke. He’ll feel as if he’s suffocating. The pain will be excruciating. Left long enough, he’ll die.”
“No, God no, please, don’t do that!” Sam hollered.
Rurik punched him in the stomach and said, “Shut up.” Then he glanced over at me. “Sorry.”
I chuckled. “No need to say sorry. I was going to do the same. Now, if you plan to stay and want to eat or drink, feel free to do so. I’ll be adding to the fun as we wait.”
No one left. Sam kept shouting at first and begging me to let him go. When it didn’t work, he tried to threaten us by saying we’d be caught. I ignored him. As he hung there, growing progressively more red-faced, I removed more ropes, but they were shorter. And I sure the fuck hadn’t cared if they abraded him, nor had I treated these ones. They were purely for practicing the torture aspects of my craft.
