I swapthe button-down for an old band tee. One that I don't mind getting covered in blood and maybe a little brain matter.
As I stand outside the door to the spy's cell, I consider abandoning him and going to toy with Summer more. She was so wet yesterday, her pussy soaking my fingers. God, how would it feel to sink myself into her? What would her pussy feel like milking my cock when she comes?
I could spend time buried in her before I put her to use. I could take videos of us together and send them to Aiden. Nothing would bother him quite like seeing his sister scream for the orgasms I could give her. Begging for them.
The door to the cell opens, a man bound to the chair in the middle.
He lifts his head, eyes bruised and nose crooked. When he swallows hard, there's a flicker of fear in his eyes.
"Hello, little spy. I hear you like to talk." I motion for the door to be shut behind me.
Summer is going to have to wait. The man in front of me is begging to be beaten until he's an inch from death.
And like the devil tormenting those he drags down below, I'm going to make this slow and painful. Those surrounding me are going to think twice about double-crossing me.
After I'm done, I might go get those screaming orgasms, but right now, the spy's screams as I cut off his finger are going to have to be enough.
Chapter Six
NOAH
I tossthe finger to the side, the sound of the spy's screams music to my ears. It's like coming home at the end of a long day and finally getting to relax. I don't have to worry about anything other than making his death as slow and painful as possible.
The only feeling better than this is having my fingers on Summer's wet folds.
"My name is Emilio. I have two children at home. You're not going to do this to a father, are you? You're not that big of a monster?"
I chuckle and grab his hand, forcing it down against the arm of the chair, not caring about the blood that stains my skin as I press the knife to another one of his fingers. "I don't know what kind of monster you think I am, but you're wrong. I'm much worse than the man you've concocted in your mind."
Emilio grits his teeth, his head turning to the side. There's a green tinge to his skin as I slice the knife down to the bone before stopping.
His agonized cry is worth the mess.
"Now, who do you work for?"
"Fuck yourself." Emilio spits at me.
So, there is some fight in him after all.
I'm going to have fun breaking him. "Now, now, I thought we were going to play nice with each other. You were going to tell me everything I wanted to know, and in return, I was going to let you go back to your family."
His jaw tightens, and he glares at me.
I roll my eyes. "Hostages always have to make things difficult."
I don't think there's ever been more than a handful of times that the person being tortured doesn't talk, though. It's hard to think clearly and keep secrets to yourself when layers of your skin are being peeled off one by one.
As the man works his way to what I'm guessing is going to be another cuss thrown my way, I drive the knife through the rest of his finger.
He screams, his head falling back against the chair.
"How do you want to die?" I step back, crossing my arms, blood smearing against my skin and clothing.
"Don't know why you're bothering with me. Family so pathetic that you don't even have enforcers now?" He grins through the pain, though it looks more like he's trying to bare his teeth.
"How. Do. You. Want. To. Die?"
"Fuck. You." He laughs and shakes his head, but the corners of his eyes are crinkled. He's fighting through the pain.