Page 63

I continue inside before I turn into the version of myself I never wanted to be. When I came to the island, I changed who I was—or who my mother created—and became a version of myself that no one could hurt, with walls so high no one could get through them. But I guess everything has a weak spot, and I have three.

Jester

Vesper might kill me when she realizes I have been on the island for the last two days. Yes, I left the first day, but this motherfucker wasn’t hard to find, nor was he hard to kidnap. It was a little disappointing; at least Jensen made my life interesting.

He’s still alive, and I’m somewhat annoyed. Not because I want him to die fast—he doesn’t deserve that. And it would be rather inconvenient since he still has answers I want. Though a small part of me wondered if I would come back down here and his heart would have simply given up.

I stand at the bottom of the stairs and stare at him. His head hangs forward, and blood has dried down one side of his face, disappearing into the collar of what used to be a crisp white business shirt. The material is now torn, and his expensive shoes are in the tub full of acid. They pissed me off, maybe because they were polished. There is something offensive about a man like this having shiny shoes.

The barbed wire holding him to the chair has done its job beautifully. He won’t be going anywhere without taking a considerable amount of flesh off in the process. After his first attempt to get free, he seems to have figured that out for himself.

Smart man—well, smart enough to stop moving, if not smart enough to avoid ending up in my basement. My presence doesn’t wake him, so I jingle one of my bells, but still nothing. When I give it a second ring, his head jerks.

“You’re awake.”

His breathing changes, and that makes me smile. I have been asleep for hours, yet his body still remembers what I have put it through. I fell asleep easily, remembering the sounds he made, the screams music to my ears. Vero had a good idea, though. He said I should record it and use it as white noise, but Kayla put a pin in that idea by reminding us it could be used as evidence. We don’t want that. Not that I’m scared to go to jail—I think I would like it there. I would never end up there, though; I’m sure I would end up in a white jacket, which I also think I would enjoy.

Fear should be remembered, and this man definitely remembers. It would be disappointing if I had to start over every time I came down here.

“Did you miss me?”

His head lifts slowly, one eye swollen shut, but the other finds me. Hatred, fear, pain—they are all reflecting back at me.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

I walk farther into the room, and he watches me as I pull a chair across the floor, then turn it around before sitting on it backward and folding my arms across the back. He stares at me, and I stare back, his one good eye occasionally glancing at the stairs.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I say, drawing his focus to me again. “You’re wondering if someone is going to come down here.” His jaw tightens. “They’re not.” I lean forward more. “That is the best thing about the island. Everyone knows everyone else is a little fucked up. People here are good at minding their own business.”

It’s not completely true, but he doesn’t need to know that. Nixie would lose her mind if she knew what I was doing, as I was warned not to bring anyone here again after Rowan. I didn’t even hurt him much, not like Steedy. At least Valli’s shitty brother is still alive, so I’d call that a win. This guy, however, won’t be breathing by the time I’m done with him. I shake off the thought, remembering why he’s here again.

“I gave you plenty of time to think, so let’s try this again,” I say, taking a photograph out of my pocket.

I contacted 404 and asked for a few of the girls’ photos—not any of the younger ones, just a few of the others. He cropped them so they’re tasteful, since it’s bad enough they were in that file.

“Are you ready to tell me who this is?”

“How the fuck should I know?” he spits, his eyes meeting mine.

“Let me refresh your memory. Her name is Trixie, and her parents haven’t seen her in a year. She went missing, and some asshole was keeping her to sell. And just as an FYI, since you won’t be leaving here, your pockets might be deep, but not deep enough. The operation is done, and all the girls will be going home.”

Anger surges through me when he smirks, so I stand and walk over to the bag of rusty tools that Cipher gave me. He didn’t question why I wanted them but was smart enough not to ask for them back. I take out a pair of pliers that have seen better days and walk back over to the asshole in the chair.

“Do you know what they did to this girl specifically? I saw photos of things I can never unsee.”

He shifts in his chair.

“No, you wouldn’t have seen them because Jensen was smart enough not to hand the drive over to someone vile like you. They ripped her teeth out when she bit one of them. Guess it’s only fair you understand that pain.”

“Fuck you,” he spits.

I laugh. “I thought for a second I may have broken your spirit.”

He clamps his mouth shut, but I jam the rusty pliers in anyway, and they crash against his teeth. When he cries out in pain, it gives me enough room to wrap them around a tooth. It doesn’t matter to me which one, but I underestimated how hard it is to pull it out. As I put a foot on his chest to brace myself, his scream sends adrenaline through me, and with a sharp yank, the tooth comes right out. Then I hold it up for him to see.

“Not sure the tooth fairy can visit where you’re going,” I snark.

I walk over to the table I brought down yesterday and drop the tooth on it—I wonder if Banks will want it. There are several things I’ve laid out across it’s surface to use, and some I have already tried, but others I haven’t.