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Now it was getting interesting. I didn’t even have to torture him. We were just having this conversation like we always would. I was beginning to wonder why Cash wanted me to interrogate him.
“So, this Francesca,” I said, waving him on.
“Oh, yeah! I was drifting in the ocean after the guys threw me off the ship. It was a really sucky situation. I’d just saved all their lives by getting them through the storm and they made me walk the plank.”
“The actual plank?” I asked, sitting up taller. “They had one? Did they wear eye patches?”
“Nothing like that. And the plank was metaphorical.” He glanced past me. “Is that a branding iron?”
“Yeah, electric. Did you find out why they threw you over?”
“That’s a tough one. I’m guessing it was either the fact that they found out I wasn’t actually who I said I was, or they got greedy and wanted to cut me out of the deal now that they were so close to shore. Are you going to electrocute me?”
“That depends. Are you going to give me something to electrocute you over?”
He thought about it for a moment. “I gotta be honest, I did a lot of bad things while I was away. And I can’t talk about all of it. If you want answers, you’re going to have to torture it out of me.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“I’m just being honest. As much as I would love to tell you the truth, I just can’t.”
I was afraid he was going to say that. I really didn’t want to go down this road with him. “Cash wants answers.”
“I understand. You have to do what you have to do,” he nodded.
I stood and walked over to the table, but I just couldn’t pick it up. I spun back to him. “He doesn’t want me to do this.”
“What? Electrocute me? It won’t hurt me. I can’t die.”
“Everyone can die. It’s a fact.”
“Yeah, but not me. You know this to be true.”
“It was true in the past, but if I get my hands on you?—”
“You already have your hands on me. I’m telling you, light me up. It won’t work.”
“Honestly, I’m just not in the mood,” I admitted. I slumped back down in the chair and sighed. “You know that feeling of release you get from a really good murder?”
“Not really.”
“I’ve been missing that lately. For a short time, I felt like I was back. We were attacked by another security company not too long ago. Someone shot Cash, and I was all over it. I was in my element, but in the middle of interrogating the guy, I just…had trouble performing,” I said, hoping he would understand. “I had to fake the whole thing. It was horrible. That darkness deep inside just sort of vanished mid-torture. I haven’t been able to get it back yet. I feel dysfunctional.”
His lip quivered as he stared at me. “I think that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. That darkness is part of you.”
“I know!” I said. “What does it say about me if I’ve lost it? Then I’m just Fox, the show tune singing regular guy. No one will call me a psychopath anymore. This is so horrible.”
“Hey. It’s not that bad. We’ll figure it out.”
“How?” I grumbled. “I can’t even do it to you.”
“Yeah, but I’m your friend. You need someone you can really let loose on.”
“I had someone in the chair and I was a mess. It took me days of hiding out in my room to get over what happened. Everyone thought I was getting dragged down into the darkness even further, but really…” I looked around making sure I wasn’t being overheard. “I really spent that time watching reruns ofGilligan’s Island.”
FNG gasped, shaking his head at what I had just admitted. “No way.”
“I know. I’m so ashamed. I couldn’t even watch a musical. I’m the guy everyone turns to for this stuff. What are they going to do if I don’t get my mojo back?”
