Page 73 of Skin Deep

When Bowen didn’t say anything more, War jammed a syringe into the IV port and pushed whatever was in it into Bowen’s bloodstream. Bowen immediately made a strangled sound and started struggling against the restraints. One of the monitors started beeping. War reached up to shut it off.

“Epinephrine,” War announced. “It’s going to send your heart rate and blood pressure soaring. That ache in your chest? I wouldn’t worry too much about it. It’s your heart muscle working overtime to pump extra blood through your body. Now, one dose won’t do much. You’ll feel a little pressure, some mild discomfort. But two?” He held up a second prepared syringe. “You ever had a heart attack, Bowen? You’re what, fifty? Prime age for it. They say it’s some of the worst pain a man can experience.”

Bowen’s breath and all his stats sped up, monitors flashing as War moved to place the second needle in the port, but he stopped short of administering it, looking at me.

I picked up my bat and pressed the handle into Bowen’s open wound, making him cry out. “Are you the fucking ripper?”

“Nyet!” Bowen cried, clenching and unclenching what was left of his hand. “Nyet!”

“English, motherfucker!” I leaned into the bat, and he screamed as the bones creaked.

“No!”

“Then who is?”

He gnashed his teeth and shook his head. “They’ll kill me!”

“You’re already dead,” War said. “The only decision you have left is how many pieces I cut off before we get there.”

“Who’s the ripper?” I demanded, digging the end of the bat in harder. “Who killed my wife?”

“Your wife?” Bowen’s eyes snapped open. His teeth were bloody from biting down on his tongue. “He didn’t kill anybody,” Bowen said, and I eased off. “Those were the fucking rules. No killing. No witnesses. I made sure.”

I grabbed him by his hair and held the bat to his throat. “Who? Give us a name.”

Bowen’s eyes darted to War. “Why should I? What do I get out of it?”

War hit the foot pedal to make the bed lay flat again. “You’re not exactly in a position to bargain, now are you?” He held up a different syringe.

Bowen gritted his teeth. “You’ll never find him without me. I’m the only one who knows where he is and how to get to him.”

“Oh, you misunderstand,” War said. “I’m not ready to kill you yet. I could. I could start cutting you apart inch by inch if I wanted, but I’m not that kind of surgeon. I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of experience with amputations. See, my specialty is cosmetic surgery. One of the most common procedures requested by men in my office is penile enhancement. Basically, men with small cocks like you come to me and I inject this collagen filler into their penises to make them bigger. Of course, that procedure is usually performed under general anesthesia, and it’d be horribly unethical of me to pump you full of this much filler. Your skin will burst wide open, and you’ll feel every agonizing second of it.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You’re going to explode his dick with medical science?”

Bowen’s heart rate shot up again.

War smirked. “It’ll take several injections and a long damn time, but I promise you it will be very, very painful.”

“Fuck you!” Bowen spat, fighting his restraints as War took his flaccid cock in hand. “Fuck you!”

“Unless, of course, you start talking,” War said. “And I’d talk fast if I were you.”

Bowen was panting and his stats were through the roof. I was surprised he hadn’t thrown himself into a heart attack. “The safehouse you’re looking for… is up your ass, you fucking faggot.”

Bowen tried to keep a brave face as War carefully inserted the needle. It took him about two seconds to start screaming.

“Don’t squirm,” War snarled. “There are a lot of important veins down here. I don’t want to nick one by accident.”

Bowen thrashed against the table and started shouting in Russian, probably cursing. War paid him no mind, readying another injection. I turned away, feeling sick. I’d seen a lot of torture, even carried some out, but this… This was a whole new level of horrific.

“What are you complaining about?” War said after the third injection as he drew a rag over Bowen’s sweaty forehead. “You’ve just gotten twelve thousand dollars’ worth of collagen for free. And a man like you, who likes to beat and rape women… Let’s just say it was a needed enhancement. The next procedure might not be so necessary.” He lifted a scalpel. “Keep shouting slurs at me and I’ll try my hand at an orchiectomy. Do you know what that one is, Bowen? That’s where I remove your testicles.”

“You’re a psycho!” Bowen shouted. “A fucking monster!”

War snarled and grabbed a handful of Bowen’s hair. “You’re the fucking monster. What did you do to Mariann Rhetter?”

Bowen grimaced in confusion. “Who?”

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