I pull a pair of black latex gloves from my back pocket and put them on, then give his cheeks a few slaps to rouse him from his sleep. His eyes jerk open, panic widening them, and they dart around the room.
“What’s goin—”
“Right here, motherfucker,” I growl darkly.
His eyes slam to mine and grow as big as saucers. The rope binding his arms go taut as he tries to pull them to his body. His gaze slides to his wrists, then he lifts his head to look down at his torso and legs. Alarm tightens his face.
“Fuck,” he mutters, looking around the room again and spot
ting Emo, Trouble, and JW. I’m purposely standing in the way so he doesn’t see Ellie. His head swivels back to me. “What in the hell is going on?”
I get right to the point. “Twelve years ago, you attacked a woman.”
The muscle in his jaw twitches. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”
I step to the side, and his eyes dart past me to Ellie. His brows drop, and he squints to see better.
“You and your buddies dragged her into an alley and beat her so badly she had to have multiple surgeries to repair bone damage. Her face was so fucked-up she needed plastic surgery.” I grit my teeth. “She was pregnant with my child.”
His gaze flies back to me. Dawning realization slides over his face, and the blood in his cheeks drains away.
He looks back to Ellie. “I’m sorry,” he says shakily, as if that’s all he has to do to get out of this.
I step in his line of sight. “You think she’s going to save you?” I laugh sinisterly. “You really fuckin’ think after what you did to her, she’ll lift a finger or show an ounce of pity?”
I grab the mallet that’s lying on the table by his hip. When he sees it, he begins thrashing against his bindings.
“Even if you get out of the rope, you won’t get far,” I say casually, walking to the end of the table where his feet are. “You see that man there?” I jut my chin to Emo. “He’d love nothing more than to gut you from gullet to groin. I should probably mention that he keeps his knife dull for a reason.”
The jeans at his crotch darken as he pisses himself.
“Fuck,” he yells, twisting his wrists against the rope. His chest heaves and his hips buck. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It wasn’t my idea to hurt her. We were just looking for some cash to score a hit. I tried to talk them out of it, but they wouldn’t listen!”
He’s lying, but it wouldn’t matter if he wasn’t. He took part and the outcome was still the same.
“Speaking of your buddies. Have you heard from your cousin lately?”
His head lifts, and he watches with frightened eyes as I pull off his shoes and toss them to the side. I leave his crusted socks on.
“N-no,” he stammers.
“That’s because he and your friend are in graves outside the Eddyville State Penitentiary walls.”
He sputters out a choking sound, his feeble escape attempts freezing. It doesn’t last long though. Within seconds, he’s yanking and pulling again, breaking the skin around his wrists and ankles. There are deep red lines across his sternum.
His eyes fly to Ellie. “Please,” he begs hoarsely. “I swear I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Him looking at her, beseeching her to help him, sends anger spiking through my system.
I rear the mallet back and slam it against the side of his ankle bone. An intoxicating amount of pleasure courses through me when he howls in pain and thrashes against his bindings.
“You don’t get to fuckin’ look at her, you bastard.”
Taking another swing, I do the same to the other ankle, satisfyingly crushing the bone. The legs stay in place, but the foot twists to the side. The awkward angle of his ankles reminds me of the movie Misery.
As Billy sobs and mutters incoherent words, I look to Ellie. Her shaking hand is covering her open mouth, and her face is pale. Her other hand presses against her stomach, as if she’s holding in the contents.
Her eyes move from the slobbering mess on the table and lock on mine. I ask her with my gaze if she’s okay. After several seconds, she gives me a small nod. I turn back to Billy.