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The sun starts to fade in the sky as we turn down the road that leads to the warehouse and our other buildings along the edge of the docks. Enzo pulls the car to a stop beside the large sliding door of one of the shipping containers that we turned into an interrogation room.
The water laps at the concrete barrier, muffling the sounds of Alec and his men, gathered to stand guard.
The waves are aggressive from the lingering storms. I’ll need to make sure any evidence of consequence is weighed down.
Nico gets out of the car with haste, rounding the back and dragging Matt across the pavement like the trash he is, no longer concerned about appearances. There’s nothing to hide here.
This is our territory. It’s about our revenge.
So Nico takes Matt by an ankle and I take another, and we drag him across the damp pavement, allowing the back of his head to grind against the abrasive ground.
We leave a streak of blood behind us, and I sigh, making a mental note to pour some bleach out here before we leave and call the clean-up crew. Because this is unsanctioned – Albert is going to make us pay the cost out of our own money. Worth it.
I drop my hold of Matt to flip on the lights. The fluorescent bulbs flash into a steady brightness that is hard on the eyes.
Nico lifts his body into a chair and begins to secure the ties. I watch him make quick work of the rope, his fingers tying off tight knots that dig into his skin.
I hope it burns. This man never deserved Christina. He certainly doesn’t deserve our mercy.
Nico slaps him across the face repeatedly until Matt wakes up. The fear in his sleepy eyes makes me laugh.
Nico squats beside him. He slaps his face again, leaving behind a red handprint on Matt’s pasty white face.
“Good morning.” His voice is unhinged, even to me.
This isn’t a random first kill. It’s a trophy. And I can feel that Nico intends to savor every moment of it.
“W-where am I?” Matt stutters.
From where I stand in this shipping container turned cell, it looks as if Nico trails a finger lovingly down his cheek. It’s not until the blood drips against the floor that I realize he has his knife in his hand.
Damn. I gotta give it to him. He’s embracing the drama and it’ll make for a better story than my first time.
Mine was some nameless, faceless man I don’t remember.
If I have a son, I promise myself I’ll do it this way for him.
Matt cries out, his voice still weak from the sedative.
I take a few steps towards the nearest wall, leaning against it for a better view. I cross my arms against my chest as I watch.
“P-please,” Matt whimpers. His lips tremble, the blood still dripping down his face.
Nico laughs, gripping Matt by the neck.
“How does it feel?” His knife digs beneath the skin flaying open a piece before he carves it away.
“Hmm? How does it feel to be powerless? To have your life in the hands of someone bigger?”
Another cut. “Still think it’s fun?”
Matt’s screams turn to sobs.
“Please. Please! I won’t touch her again.” His voice cracks. “I swear.”
It’s the wrong thing to say.
Nico’s smile twists into something terrifying.
