Page 181 of Bad for Me

Jack won’t be able to deny me now. Even if I have to peel every inch of skin off him.

A low moan spills from his lips, quickly replaced by a garbled sound of horror as he looks down to see the desecration of his legs. “Fucking monster,” he mutters, his head swinging to the side.

I chuckle and pick up a spray bottle from the trolley. “I’m still waiting, Jack. I won’t let you die until you’ve told me what I want to know.”

His back arches, the tendons in his neck standing in relief as a primal scream rips from him. Lemon juice sprayed on open flesh will do that to a man. He writhes and moans, curses me and any children I might one day have. Why does he persist in fighting? It would all go away if he just told me.

“Where is Richard?” I demand before spraying his left leg. “I can make the pain stop.” He shakes his head, and I shrug. I get to work removing the skin from his ass and hips. The magic drug does its job of keeping him awake, and I can only imagine the level of pain he’s in. It’s got to be off the charts.

“I don’t know!” he screams when I hold his flaccid dick in my hand. My head cocks to the side as I rest my knife along its length. “I haven’t seen him in years, okay?”

“Then why would you go through all this to protect him?”

Jack’s throat works as he swallows. “It wasn’t for him, but for who he works for. If I talk, he’ll kill everyone I know.”

I purse my lips as I stare at him. It doesn’t surprise me to learn Richard was working for someone, but he’s the only one I care about. This mystery boss is of no interest to me. I only care about making Richard and the five men who took Wren pay.

But since he’s talking… “What did Richard want with us?” No matter how much I’ve dug over the years, I’ve never been able to find out.

Jack groans. “There were cameras set up around the fortress. A benefactor was paying for videos of the two of you.”

My brow furrows. “Videos of what?” All we did was get beaten and starved.

“That’s what the benefactor wanted,” he replies. I must have spoken those last words out loud. “He wanted home movies. He wanted to see you abused. Once you and the kid got attached, he was going to force you on her.”

Bile rushes up my throat, but I choke it down. “So why did Richard have you kill her instead?”

“I don’t know, man. The benefactor died in some freak gas attack in London. Maybe no one else would pay the fees. These guys are very particular about what they want. They give descriptions, and Richard sends us out to match the brief.”

A chill runs down my spine, and I take a step back. I want to place my hands over my ears like a child when Jack continues to talk. When he describes how they would hunt at doctor’s offices, playgrounds, sporting events, and carnivals. How they would take pictures and the “benefactors” would choose who they wanted. How they would then kill the parents, making the children homeless and at the mercy of corrupt CPS agents.

They murdered my parents due to the whim of some mysterious man behind a screen. All because he wanted me to fulfill his perverted fantasy. For the first time in fourteen years, tears mist my eyes. I swore I would never again be weak. That I would never allow emotions to prevent me from doing what needed to be done.

The corner of Jack’s mouth lifts. “But that little girl? Man, she was something else. The way she screamed when we—” I punch him in the face hard enough to snap his head back. He spits blood and chuckles. “She called for you, you know. ‘Sinclair! Help!’” he mocks in a falsetto.

Fuck my promise to not let my emotions get the better of me. A crimson mist settles over my vision, my heart rate amps up, and my mind detaches. I close off my ears as I settle deep inside myself, letting The Carver’s practiced movements take over.

I start with Jack’s dick, severing it at the root before stomping it into the tiled floor, decimating the object that hurt Wren. I dose him up with another injection of The Chemist’s serum, watching with a critical eye as the pulse in his neck quickens. Blood gushes from the amputation site, the hot liquid running down his mutilated legs and into the drain strategically placed below the chains.

Jack’s mouth opens wide with never-ending screams, but I hear nothing as I swipe my knife over his lower stomach. With the delicacy of a surgeon, I pull the intestines through the slit. There’s not much time left; with each pump of his heart, he loses more blood. But I don’t want him to go that easily. He’s going to feel the same terror Wren did.

I handle the delicate mass in my hands, gently tugging more out until I’m able to drape it around his neck. Once they’re in place, I slap Jack’s cheek to get his attention. His glazed eyes meet mine, and in them, I see his pain and misery.Good.

“This is for my sister,” I murmur, and wrap the slippery tubes around my hands. Jack’s breathing hitches, his eyes popping wide as I strangle him like he did Wren. His body jerks and thrashes, making the chains rattle merrily with his death dance.

Normally, one of my victims would pass out from the strangulation, but the serum won’t allow it. Jack feels every torturous second, every ounce of terror his mind feeds him as it scrambles to live.

One down, little bird.

Satisfaction thrums through me when the light leaves his eyes. He’ll never hurt anyone again, and Wren now has a sixth of her revenge. I’ll hunt down the others, no matter how long it takes. I won’t rest until their blood turns the streets red.

3

DOLLY

I sit back,checking my makeup in the mirror with a critical eye. It’s a special night, and I’m determined to look my best.Something’s missing.My head cocks to the side, and I purse my lips, tapping my fingers on the ancient battered dressing table I rescued from the roadside. Ah, yes. Contacts.

Tilting my head back, I stare sightlessly at the industrial HVAC ducts running under the ceiling as I pop in one red-colored contact after the other. They go well with the crimson wash covering my natural brown hair. Tonight, I’ve gathered it into two low pigtails and tied them off with pink ribbons.

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