“Stupid bitch. Like that matters. Don’t even think about calling anybody or I’ll make this bitch pay.”
He pulls something out from his pocket. Is it a gun? Wait, why would he have a gun? He can’t hurt me with it. Even if he’s in the lobby just before the biometric gates, he’s twenty-seven floors below.
You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe, you’re safe, safesafesafesafe.
Suddenly, he shoves something up against the camera. It’s too close to see clearly at first, just a blur of flesh-colored stick. Then slowly he pulls back, pressing it against his cheek. “Isn’t this beautiful?”
It’s a human finger, severed cleanly. My phone falls from my hand. The breakfast I had earlier gurgles upward, and I toss it all on the floor, my palms and knees hitting the hardwood. My stomach twists, pushing everything out, and I heave over and over again until my face’s hot and wet, my mouth coated with acid and bile.
Tolyan… No. There’s no way someone like Andy could’ve overpowered him, and the finger was too slim, too small. “You sick son of a bitch.” I want to sound strong and angry, but fail completely.
“What, you don’t like it? I thought it might be to your taste, since you don’t seem to care for puppies…which still breaks my heart. My sweet little cousin dropped something real pretty when she lost her finger.” He puts a silver ring between his forefinger and thumb and rolls it back and forth. “Pretty, isn’t it? Her design.”
Oh no. Kristen. Is she… Oh my God, is she dead? I put a hand over my mouth as another surge of bile rises from my gut.
“You do know my dear cousin designs jewelry?”
Designs? Thank God. She’s alive. She’s alive. We can probably reattach the finger.
“You have no idea how many times I wanted to just grab her, tie her to the bed using those silver chains she made and fuck her until she bled like a pig.”
“You disgusting bastard. She’s your cousin!”
“Whatever. It isn’t like we’re blood relations. Could’ve fucked Dorothy, too, and it still wouldn’t have been a big deal. Not that I would’ve. She was old and too fucking shrill every time she opened her mouth to bitch me out about what I needed to do for her husband’s fucking career. She was so much nicer when she couldn’t wag that tongue anymore.” He makes open-and-close motions with his fingers and thumb. He grins suddenly. “Now. I’m right outside your building, Elizabeth. Let me in. Let’s finish what we started. Either I kill you or you kill me.” A smirk on his face as he says “you kill me” tells me he doesn’t believe I have what it takes to do that. Or maybe he’s that confident. Bet he has a gun on him at least.
“I’m calling Dominic now.”
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He purses his lips. “Unless you don’t care what happens to Kristen.”
“Shut up and let her go. It’s me you hate, not her.”
“Nope, not true. I’m an equal-opportunity hater.” He wags Kristen’s finger. “You want to steal her from me, and that isn’t nice. You know how hard it was to disable her bodyguard?” He pauses dramatically, then giggles. “Actually, it was so easy, it was sort of anticlimactic. He always gets a fucking donut and coffee from the little mom-and-pop shop a block away before heading over to the penthouse. All I had to do was create a diversion and slip something into his drink. About half an hour after finishing his coffee, he’s done. Bam!” Andy drops his fist hard. “Down he goes.”
Good God. He’s put so much thought into all this.
“So. You can’t have Kristen back, but I’m not entirely unreasonable. I’ll show you what I did to her.”
He’s too gleeful and talking too much, like he’s extra hyper. Did he mutilate her in some horrible way? He had no problem cutting off a finger. What if…
I press my palm against my mouth. I can’t complete the thought.
He sends me a link. I click on it. It takes me to a live video feed on a website, which shows Kristen tied to a chair. The quality of the video is pretty crappy, but I can make out that she’s only wearing her underwear and something that, in the low resolution, looks like a cummerbund. Her feet are covered with cuts and dirt, and the naked bulb over her flickers on and off, about to die. Sweat-stringy and blood-matted hair has fallen forward, covering most of her face. I can’t see her hands behind the chair, and I pray Andy didn’t do more horrible things to her.
“You see that pretty toy wrapped around her? It’s nothing fancy, just a little homemade explosive I created, using a recipe I found on Google. You know how helpful technology is these days. You can even learn how to make a remote detonator.” He holds a slim black thing in his hand, his thumb twitching over the red button. “If I hit this button…boom! Off she goes like the Fourth of July.” He snickers.
I heave again.
“Oh come on! I haven’t even killed her yet!”
“What do you want?” I say shakily.
“Told you. I want in.”
I swallow. “How do I know you won’t hurt Kristen?”
“Elizabeth, my love, if I wanted her dead, she would’ve been a long, long time ago. All I want is to finish what we started.”
God. I think hard. I have to stop him. He’s unhinged enough to blow her up if I don’t do as he says.