“You say that with complete confidence.”
“It’s because I love myself. Do you love yourself, Layla?”
Her voice cracked again. “Yes, but maybe. . .I need to love myself more.”
“You do, and cutting a toxic person away is the first major step in loving yourself.”
Silence hit the line.
“Do you believe in God, Layla?”
“I do.”
“Then, you know that God has his own plan for all of us. And you know that you are not God.”
“I’m not.”
“Cut her off. I can have my people change the locks this evening.”
She sighed again. “Okay. I can do that.”
“I have two men watching your sister now. I’ll still pay for her rehab, after tomorrow night. They’ll take her themselves.”
“Reo, you don’t have to do this—”
“I do. This is fast, but I’m finding that. . .I want to be there for you. I want to stop your pain. Let me. It makes me feel better.”
“Reo, I don’t know how I can thank you.”
A wicked smile spread across my face. Lusty images of her naked and being stuffed with my cock played out in my mind.
Don’t worry, Layla. I’m sure I’ll think of something.
Her nervous chuckle hit the line.
Feeling satisfied with the conversation, I headed down the stairs. “Did you like your gifts and servants?”
“I’m not used to any of this. The whole idea of you eating off me has me nervous.”
“You’ll be fine. In fact, I believe you’ll love every second of it.” I made it to the lowest level. “I must go for now, but I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
“Me either, Reo. And thanks for the hundredth time.”
“You’re welcome. Goodbye.” I headed to the torture chamber.
A guard opened the door.
Archer sat on the ground. We hadn’t given him any food. His skin looked gray. His body appeared slack. One guard held the chain to his cuffed hands. Two guards gripped the chains for his shackled foot.
Another guard placed a chair in front of Archer.
I turned to the guard that was starting the grill in the corner. “Is it hot?”
“Yes, sir.”
I sat down in the empty chair.
Archer laughed. “What are you going to do—burn me? I’ve dealt with worse.”
“Burn you?” I crossed my legs. “If only it was that easy.”
“I won’t tell you anything about my friends.”
“Why not? Aren’t you proud of them?”
Archer spat my way. The little blob fell two feet in front of me.
“That’s not much spit. You’re getting dehydrated.” I smiled at him. “Are you hungry?”
“Just kill me already! I’m ready to see my mother.”
“You’ll see her soon enough.”
The door opened. Two more men arrived. One held a box of sharp tools. The other was there to help the rest hold Archer down.
I eased back in my chair. “We’re going to play a little game.”
The men put Archer on his back. A guard grabbed one foot and held it out. Another hurried to the foot and raised a butcher knife in the air.
Archer gazed at them frantically. “What’s he doing?!”
I gestured to the one holding the butcher knife. “Let’s start with the big toe. He may prefer it. That one has the most meat.”
Trying to struggle out of their hold, Archer stared at me wildly. “What do you mean by that? W-what—?”
“I want your friends’ names, addresses, victim burial grounds, and any other information you know.”
“Never!”
I smiled at the guard with the butcher knife. “Go ahead.”
Archer fought and did his best to get away, but it was no use. There were too many men, and he was chained. With a boom, my guard chopped his big toe off. Blood spilled from the wound. Archer screamed in pain.
I tapped my finger to the beat of his screaming. “We’re all big and bad until people start cutting.”
Tears left Archer’s eyes. He choked and then coughed. His leg shook.
The guard picked the bloody toe up, walked over to the grill, and handed it to the other man. There, that guard placed the toe on a metal stick and began grilling it.
The whole time Archer’s groans of pain filled the room. Still, he watched what they were doing, utterly confused.
When he quieted, I studied Archer. “What type of sauce do you like with your barbecue?”
Fear filled Archer’s eyes. “I-I only know their nicknames a-and a few things like where they hunt—”
“You’ll need more to satisfy me.”
The scent of roasted meat rose in the air.
I winked at Archer. “That toe smells good. Doesn’t it?”
Archer’s stomach growled, and then he screamed as if horrified at his body’s natural reaction to smelling food. “I-I can think of some names—”
“You will, but I don’t want to be rude. We should let you eat first.”
The big toe crackled on the grill.
Archer’s stomach growled again. Tears left his eyes. “Please, no! Please!”
“Is please one of their names?”
“I won’t do it!” He shook his head over and over. “You can’t make me eat it!”
A loud laugh left me.