Page 101 of Tormented
“Cool.”
The floor is strangely cold on my knees, in contrast to Cash’s hot skin as I lift his head and prop it on my knee.
“Watchin’ you, fucker,” Sawyer warns. “Touch her, I’ll make it take twice as long.”
I peel off a starter strip of film and wrap it under Cash’s head.
“Why you doing this?” he begs Sawyer. “We were friends, man.”
I wrap the first layer over Cash’s forehead.
“Hey, I didn’t agree when you started this traffickin’,” Sawyer says. “But I respected your choices. Problem is, brother, you crossed the line for me when you killed them.”
Cash snorts as I wrap the second layer around his neck and chin.
“Fucking rich comin’ from you, man. How many people you killed now?”
I pause, curious to hear the answer also.
“Lost count when I hit double digits.”
“Exactly,” Cash literally spits out. “And here you are doing it all over again, killin’ me because I’ve done the same as you.”
“Nuh-uh,” Sawyer says with a laugh.
I wrap Cash’s mouth, leaving his nose free . . . for now.
“Everyone I’ve killed, they deserved that shit,” Sawyer explains. “Each one did something they knew was wrong: owed a debt they never intended to repay, killed somebody I loved, hurt a person who couldn’t defend themselves.”
“Fucking noble,” Cash mumbles through the plastic.
“Those girls, though.” Sawyer jabs his hand toward the basement. “The only thing they did wrong was have a pretty face. How’s that fuckin’ justified, huh? They didn’t ask to be stolen, taken from their homes, their family. They didn’t ask to be prepped for sale, and they sure as fuck didn’t ask to have some panicked coward butcher them in death to settle his guilty conscience.”
Cash tries to protest, but in the time Sawyer’s taken to issue his side of things I’ve wrapped the guy’s head in three more layers, leaving only his eyes clear.
My mind reels as I try to process what they’re talking about. I knew the Devil’s Breed were trafficking drugs to make ends meet, but shipping women around on the meat market? And Sawyer knew about this?
I glance up at the pretty brute as he reaches down to his boot and pulls out a small hunting knife. He shakes his head, clearly disgusted with Cash as he steps toward the guy. I circle the wrap one more time around our host’s head so his eyes are sealed open, and then tear the wrap off, using my teeth to start the split. His hands clip me in the head as his natural panic sets in and he claws at the plastic.
Sawyer rips Cash’s hands away, pinning each down in turn as he slices into the guy’s arms, severing tendons and literally rendering his mobility nonexistent. The flesh hangs open, showing the pale hint of bone. I turn my head to the side and lift the back of one hand to my mouth. Ugh. The guy screams, but with each lung-busting note he only succeeds in fogging up the plastic and causing it to cling to his face even tighter.
I swallow away the nausea crawling up my throat, and look back in time to see Sawyer lean over and reach for me. He gently runs his fingers under my jaw in a soft and comforting way.
“Good work, baby.”
I rest back on my heels as Sawyer breaks into song, singing the tune he whistled earlier with pure manic gusto. It dawns on me that it’s “Custer” by Slipknot as he growls the chorus while he tidies up his handiwork. Fitting.
Remorse weighs heavy in my chest, but not for the carnage currently unfolding in front of me. For the fact five lives have come to this: four women dead because they were blessed with good genes, and one life wasted on a man who chose to check out on his morals.
“You okay?” Sawyer shouts over the moans and groans still coming from Cash.
I snap out of my semitrance and nod. “Yeah.”
“You up to another task?”
I shrug. Am I? Feels as though I’m handling this pretty well, taking my history into consideration. But maybe I’ve just blocked the shock until a more appropriate time to lose the plot?
“It’s not a tough one,” Sawyer assures me. “Just need you to send a message to Tuck.”