Page 112 of Shades of Loyalty
Stupid. It’s the worst mistake somebody could make in our world. But come to think of it, it doesn’t matter what he tells me.
At the end of the day, his body will be a pile of ashes, nothing else. The outcome is the same. There’s nothing that can save him from the fire roaming inside of me.
“Fine,” I murmur, my smile cold. “I’ll give you some time to think, then.”
I step back, glancing at the selection of tools Hayden laid out for me. The ticking of the clock is the only soundfilling the room beside our breathing. My best friend leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching with an easy smirk.
“That’s a lot,” I note, running my fingers over the assortment of blades, pliers, and other instruments of pain.
Hayden smirks. “Thought you’d need some options, after all this.”
And fuck, he’s right.
I pick up a small but wickedly sharp knife, feeling its weight in my palm. It’s a simple one, but truly efficient.
It’s perfect. It’s why I love Hayden as my right hand.
Turning back to my prisoner, I twirl the blade between my fingers.
“I’m figuring you’ve got a memory problem, huh?” My voice is mocking now, edged with amusement. “Let’s see if we can fix that.”
His breath stutters. Sweat beads on his forehead. He wants to speak; I can see it—but his fear keeps his mouth shut.
It’s pretty stupid. He’s too scared to say anything, but staying quiet is the thing that I despite most of him right now.
But if that’s how he wants to play, that’s fine. I don’t mind it.
I take my time closing the distance, savoring the panic in his eyes as the knife hovers just centimeters over his skin.
“Here’s the deal,” I say, my tone dropping dangerously.
“You give me a name, and I let you go. Don’t—and I still let you go. The difference?” I drag the blade lightlyover his chest, just enough to break the skin. “One sets you free back into the world. The other sends you straight to hell.”
It’s a lie—one he doesn’t know of. One he doesn’t need to know of. Either way, he’s going to die. Hell is the only option he has tonight.
His body jerks as a thin line of blood shows up along his collarbone.
Still nothing. Seems like he’s convinced not speaking will make this easier for him.
Well, it definitely won’t.
I sigh, step back, and catch Hayden’s gaze. He tosses me another tool—a pair of pliers.
“You know,” I muse, turning them over in my hands. “I really hate wasting time.” I grip the man’s wrist tightly, my fingers digging into his skin. “But today? I might just enjoy it. I’ve had some built-up frustration for a while. And your friend Eduardo? Fuck, that bastard is definitely at fault for this as well.”
He still refuses to speak. Maybe he thinks he can endure it. Maybe he thinks I’ll stop.
What a fucking idiot.
“Time to let go of that frustration, right?” I ask. But he stays quiet, as expected.
I press the pliers around his finger and squeeze until I hear a crack. His body convulses as a strangled cry rips from his throat. He tried to keep his lips shut, not wanting to give me a single tone from him.
Not wanting to satisfy me, huh? Well. I’ll make him, regardless. There’s no point in trying to resist.
I lean in, voice a low whisper against his ear. “I really want to hear you scream, but if you talk instead, I might reconsider.”
He gasps, chest heaving. But still—no name.
