Page 55 of Leo, My Partner

“Why did you do that to those kids?”

Ian scoffs, his lip curling in disgust. “Because I wanted the money. Why else? Who are you? A parent?”

“No. Just a local neighborhood garbage man.”

“Do what you have to do,” Ian growls. “I didn’t tell the cops shit, and I won’t tell you shit either.”

I expect Ty to get pissed, beat the shit out of Ian like he did Michael, but he simply nods and looks at me. “You ready, baby?”

A grin splits my face, and I nod, leaning over the table and bringing Ty’s lips to mine. “I’m more than ready.”

Ty slides my bag over to me, then steps back a few paces.

I pull out the mallet and chisel I ordered from Amazon, twisting the chisel this way and that, watching it gleam in the light.

When Ty t0ld me he wanted to see someone’s toes removed with a mallet and chisel, I knew I’d found my soulmate. Even I never thought of something that diabolical.

Not looking at Ian, I say, “I’ve never used one of these before. But you can see the appeal, right? I can remove the toes with it, but it won’t be easy. It’ll hurt like a bitch, but it’ll get the job done.”

Ian sputters, trying to move his feet away. But as I told Ty, the more he struggles, the tighter the ropes get. “You wanna cut my toes off with that thing? Don’t! No!”

Straightening Ian’s foot, I place the chisel to his big toe, then slide it over to his baby toe. “Big toe or little toe?” I ask Ty over my shoulder.

“Baby toe first, please.” Always so polite.

This is fucking perfect. I’ll never get this anywhere else. No one will understand me like Ty does. No one will be able to see me the way I am. Without the secrets, without the mask. And he loves me anyway. It’s hard to wrap my head around, someone wanting me for me, but I’m not going to question it.

Setting the chisel to the smallest toe on his right foot, I tell Ian, “Don’t move. It’ll hurt more if you struggle.”

Ian doesn’t listen, trying to dislodge my hand. That doesn’t help, since the ropes are now so tight they appear to be cutting off circulation.

I raise the hammer high, allowing him to see it so it ratchets up his fear, then I bring it down but not with my full body weight. I want to see how much power it takes to remove the toe.

Not a lot, apparently. When the hammer lands on the chisel, the tiny toe is lopped off, spinning a few inches from its previous home. Ian screams, the sound almost inhuman. I close my eyes and relish the shriek of pain. Blood spurts everywhere, getting on my clothes. I’m surprised that much blood came out of the small space. I’ve cut off feet and hands but never toes.

I make my way down his foot, amputating his toes, but not all at once. With the third toe, I put a fraction of my power behind it, only getting to the bone. Ian cries and begs me to stop, wiggling in the chair, but Ty comes behind him, holding it still so I can work. Two more strikes and the toe rolls away.

By the time I move to the other foot, Ian looks as if he’s going to pass out, so I stop, giving him a break.

Looking up at Ty, I smile. “Wanna try?”

He thinks about it, eyes greedily taking in the sight of Ian’s discarded toes littering the floor in front of me. But he shakes his head. “No. I like watching you more.”

Nodding, I wipe the chisel off, ridding it of bone and tissue before I begin to lop the rest of his toes off.

Once all of his toes are removed, I set back on my heels to gaze at Ian. He looks fucking terrible, his skin ashen and pale from pain, sweat, tears, and snot leaking down his face. “Please stop,” Ian groans, voice hoarse from screaming. “No more.”

“Oh, no, Ian. I’m just getting started. If I could, I’d cut your fucking head off, but my boyfriend wants the honor of ending your life. Stay with me now. I’m just getting to the good stuff.”

I reach into the bag and pull out a pair of pruning shears. Moving around him, I grip his left hand and place the end of the shears to the bottom of his index finger. Since I did the same thing to Ralph only a few short weeks ago, I know how much pressure I need to cut fingers off.

Ian starts to scream anew when I work on his hand, hacking off the fingers. Now that the shears have gotten a taste of blood, they seem eager to glide through the bone of his fingers. I’m in fucking heaven listening to Ian’s screams. They crank me up, making me want more. I want to hear all his screams, all the begging, all the pleading. Just for me to tell him to fuck off so Ty can kill him.

“Stop, Leo,” Ty mutters, staying my hand before I can relieve Ian of the last two fingers. I was lost in my work, looking up at him as if waking up from a deep sleep. “Look.”

I glance around at Ian, whose face is deathly white, and his eyelids are drooping. Dropping the shears, I move in front of him and check Ian’s pulse. He’s still alive, but it’s weak and erratic. Fuck, I think I pushed too far.

I slap him across the face, wanting him to be awake for the main event. Ian groans faintly, his head lolling as he blinks slowly at me. “Don’t die on me yet,” I mutter, kneeling and slapping his cheeks.

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