Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
I looked at Wally from this angle. Some people got out of jail stacked; he wasn’t one of them. You could see the bones in his ribcage. He’d already pissed himself, which was unfortunate. I checked the time. Fuck. I had thirty minutes. I pulled the lever and smiled as the cold water fell over Wally, and he thrashed. The chains were the best kind of music. The chains, his screams, his gargled pleas as the water went in his mouth. It was all a thing of beauty. There was so much water in the tank that I could drown him without moving him. I thought about it. I’d done it before, but I had other plans for this asshole.
“Stop,” he screamed when he managed to gasp for air. He tried to say something else but started choking on the water again.
I switched off the water and waited until he stopped moving and screaming before turning on the air conditioning. He let out a strangled sob when he felt the breeze coming from the vents. As his pleas for mercy rang out, I grabbed my favorite knife that could slice through a bone-in New York strip without effort. Rosie had shown me the knife when I had gone over for dinner, and I had immediately purchased one for myself. She had asked me three times if I'd used it for meat, and every time I smiled and said I had - but I never told her what kind of meat it was. Dominic knew, though, and Wally would as well in a few seconds. I grabbed the scissors at the last minute. Matti was bouncing off his heels next to me like he was set to fight some kind of boxing match, but my glare made him stand still immediately.
“Please,” Wally said, hiccupping. He was shivering uncontrollably now. “Just please.”
“Was that what your daughter said to you, Wally?” I walked over and stood directly in front of him. With the scissors, I cut underneath his left pec. He cried out, still shivering, the chains clanking above his head.
“Did she beg you to stop?” I put the scissors near his mouth. “Honest answers only.”
“S-s-s-s-he did.”
I nipped his bottom lip, slicing it right in half. He screamed again, crying louder now, the blood seeping down his chin, to his chest, to the floor between my boots.
I pressed the tip of the scissor against the left side of his face. His eyes widened, and he looked there to see what I’d do next. “What did you do when she told you to stop? Did you stop?”
“N-n-n-n-n-o,” he wailed. “It was a mistake.”
“A mistake.” I took the scissor away. I looked over my shoulder and heard Wally exhale in relief. I smiled. He was such a fucking idiot. “Can rape be a mistake, Mattia?”
“No, sir.”
“Hm.” I let the scissors fall with a clank and looked at Wally, still shivering, still bleeding. “He says rape can’t be a mistake.”
“I-I-I-I-I’ll apologize,” he said. “I’ll g-g-g-g-o back to jail.”
“Oh, you’ll apologize.” I laughed. “Matti, he’s going to apologize for raping her.”
Matti snickered behind me. “Sick fuck.”
I tossed the knife I’d had in my left hand and caught it with my right. His eyes widened even more, which seemed impossible. Maybe I should cut one out. Yeah, maybe I would. I set the tip of the knife on his Adam’s apple and poked his chest with it as I dragged it down.
“You know what we do to men who don’t know where to keep their hands?” I asked. “To men who steal?”
“W-w-w-w-hat?” he asked, then screamed, “No! Don’t cut off my hands. Not my hands.”
“Nah, don’t worry. Your hands are safe, Wally.”
“T-t-t-t-hank you.” His teeth were chattering so hard I was sure he’d chip a few of them.
“It’s pretty cold, isn’t it?” I grinned, cocking my head to look into his light blue eyes. He was having trouble keeping them open. He tried to nod. “Matti, be a good host and switch off the air conditioning. Mr. Baker is cold.”
Mattia did as instructed and backed away again, probably didn’t want to dirty his boating shoes.
“Let me give you a little tutorial,” I started, bringing the knife to the center of his chest and setting the tip on it. He shook uncontrollably, teeth still chattering. “The crime for stealing would be to cut off your hands, but I already told you I wouldn’t.”
“T-t-t-t-hank y-y-y-y-ou.”
I traced the tip of the knife lightly, drawing some blood as I dragged it down to his pelvis again. His eyes widened even more. He shook his head rapidly.
“N-n-n-n-o.”
“No? No, what?” I frowned.
“P-p-p-p-please. D-d-d-d-o don’t.”
“You haven’t told me what you did with the Pappy,,” I said. I stabbed his pelvis right over his dick.
His jaw wobbled. “I drank it.”
Holy fucking shit. If he’d said he sold it, I might have been lenient, but this piece of scum did not deserve a drop of that bottle. I brought the knife higher and slashed a line across his stomach. His scream was deafening. Blood didn’t just trickle out of him; it spilled like a dam opening up. It really was a good knife.