Page 98 of I Will Mend You
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “That’s doubtful, unless they know you flew to Helsing Island for a front-row seat to a snuff movie.”
His gaze darts around the room, his restrained hands clenching and unclenching. “Let me go,” he spits out, his voice rough. “Delta will kill you.”
“Delta abandoned you long before we hauled your carcass onto our catamaran. Do you know what he did when I updated your group chat with photos of the investors’ unconscious bodies?”
He stiffens.
I lean in close, my voice barely above a whisper. “Absolutely nothing.”
Hunter’s eyes flicker with a mix of doubt and fury. He struggles against his restraints, his face flushing red. The veins on his forehead stand out like bolts of lightning.
He draws a harsh breath, his barrel chest heaving to match the rhythm of his rising panic. “You’re lying. Delta wouldn’t. He has an entire team of operatives?—”
“If you mean the Moirai, you’re out of luck. They cast him out years ago.”
I walk to the table of torture instruments and select Hunter’s phone. After unlocking it with his face, I select the group chat and turn the phone so that Hunter can see the screen.
He draws in a sharp breath, his face contorting with disbelief, taking in the truth displayed on the app. The last message reads: ‘Delta has left the group.’
“Now, are you ready to talk?” I ask.
Hunter swallows hard, his features falling into a mask of resignation. “I can’t tell you much. Delta is a secretive man who keeps all his members at arm’s length.”
“I would believe that from any of the other investors we captured, but you’re the only one who never sent any funds. Why would that be?”
We both know the answer. Hunter’s high-ranking position in the police force gives Father the freedom to operate his illicit movie network without fear of being caught. It’s probably how he got Nocturne implicated when X-Cite Media switched from femdom content to snuff.
Bending his neck, Hunter closes his eyes, tightens his lips, and swallows. “You’d better kill me, because I don’t have any information.”
“I hoped you’d say that.” I slip on a pair of gloves, not wanting to contaminate my hands with his filth.
His head snaps up. “What?”
The first punch lands with a satisfying crunch against his cheekbone. He grunts, his head lurching to one side from the impact. I lean in, my teeth bared.
“I need to work out a fuckload of frustration, and you just volunteered your bloated carcass as my toy.”
His eyes widen for a fraction of a second before reverting to the stoic mask. I pull back my fist and deliver another punch to his gut. He jerks forward in his restraints, releasing an explosive grunt.
I continue with a series of jabs and uppercuts, filling the room with echoes of flesh hitting flesh.
His body jerks and shivers with the impact of each blow. Blood trickles down his nose and from his split lip. I take pleasure in his pain, in the way his body moves with each blow, and in the way his face contorts and twitches under my assault.
But it’s not enough.
“Tell me something,” I say. “How does it feel to star in a snuff movie, rather than jerk off from the sidelines?”
His gaze flickers, a fleeting moment of surprise, followed by horror.
“Did you think I would slice through your throat and carve out your heart?” I ask with a laugh. “That would be too quick, too simple. You deserve a performance to rival X-Cite Media.”
Hunter’s body stiffens, his breaths quickening. Leaving him to stew on my words, I return to the table and pick up a nightstick.
“What?” he asks, his voice rising with panic. “You going to fuck me with that?”
“And give you the satisfaction?” I swing it at his temple, delivering a cracking blow that echoes through the room.
His head lurches to one side, with blood splattering against the concrete. His guttural scream rings through my ears like a symphony.