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Shinji’s lips twitch. “Because we use it for surgeries we can’t afford to have in a hospital. It helps our organization keep a low profile.”
“What the hell is that for?” Our hostage fights his bonds while keeping his eyes on the scalpel.
Shinji places the soaked cotton beside the device and raises the blade. “This? Call it my way of keeping you honest.” He cuts away the man’s clothes, leaving him naked on the metal slab.
I circle the table until I have a clear view of the hostage’s face. The blood smearing his lips doesn’t affect me, but the hateful anger in his glare causes me to step back before righting myself.
“Since we started with the easy questions, it’s time we graduate to something more interesting. What does Tomasso have planned?” Shinji asks.
The man sneers and succinctly states, “Fuck you. I won’t give up information like that even if you kill me.”
“I’ll gladly test your theory.” Shinji places the wet cotton swabs between the clamps attached to the electronic device and none too gently fastens them on the man’s balls.
A growing sense of foreboding builds in my stomach as the hostage screams in agony. I’m still unsure what the machine does, but I’m regretting the man’s bravado for him.
“You sure you don’t have something to tell me?” Shinji steps away with the gadget in hand.
“Yeah, I do. If Tomasso gets his hands on that bitch first, he’ll go medieval on her ass and rip her to shreds while she’s awake for the whole thing.”
Shinji’s nostrils flare and his face tightens, all signs of levity disappearing. Without uttering a warning, he turns a knob.
Smoke appears between the stranger’s thighs. This time his screams come from deep inside him, worse than before. I swallow the bile creeping up my throat. I’m used to defending myself from Tomasso’s henchmen, not torturing them. Maybe Shinji was right when he offered to let me sit this one out. Even so, I won’t leave him to stand on his own. He sure as shit wouldn’t let me.
Shinji shuts off the device and waits.
Tears stream unending down the stranger’s face and shuddering breaths interrupt his whimpering. When his chest’s movements slow but he doesn’t speak, Shinji turns on the machine. Again, he gives no warning, and he doesn’t repeat his question.
The smell of burning meat makes it to my nose, and I resist the urge to gag.
Time disappears as Shinji repeats this ritual over and over. Shinji’s phone rings and he moves away, giving the man a reprieve from having his balls fried.
I comb through his sweaty hair. “Why don’t you tell us what we want to know?” Since pain doesn’t faze him, maybe adding a sweet touch will.
“Tell me, was burning my balls beyond use your idea?” He glares at me, a secret knowledge hiding in the depths of his dark gaze.
“What are you talking about?” I ask as dread sets in my chest.
“At least with Paul, you were merciful enough to slice one time.”
I snap my head around to see Shinji still on the phone as panic begins to rise. “Paul who?”
“You shouldn’t be worried about him knowing. Tomasso knows. Why do you think the bounty is so high? He wouldn’t spend two mil to silence a kid because she saw her daddy die. His lawyers could discredit you in a church full of grandmas onEaster Sunday. No, you touched the golden child and you have to pay.”
I shake my head as the nightmare from my college days resurfaces. Tomasso and Paul… They were never supposed to know the freshman coed going by the name Sheila Andrews from Paul’s junior year is the same Haven Covey who watched as Tomasso blew my dad’s brains out. Having the two most horrific events shoved in my face thrusts me back to the day of my fear-filled twelfth birthday. The sense of being hunted that I’ve lived with for so long, surges forward, overpowering everything in front of me.
From behind me, Shinji’s worried voice calls my name and asks, “What did he say to you?”
The man smiles, and my panic goes into overdrive. “We were having a nice little conversation. Weren’t we Lakeshia? Or should I say, She?—”
My vision blanks and I barely hear Shinji call out.
“Oh, shit!” comes as if from under water. Strong arms wrap around me, trapping my arms against my torso. “Lakeshia, snap out of it!”
I blink to clear my vision. My hands are bloody and they’re clinging to the scalpel I remember Shinji placing on the slab before taking his call. Why is it in my hands now? Why am I bloody? I frown at the image before me not understanding the when or the how.
I glance at the man responsible for my tailspin. His empty eyes stare at the ceiling, his mouth agape. Further down, his throat is an open gash from countless stabbings. But…how?
“Lakeshia, look at me.” Shinji gently pinches my chin and twists my head until his face fills my vision.
