Page 89 of A Heart So Savage

Love will save me

But vengeance will heal me.

Kingston wipedblood from his hands with a towel. Sweat dripped from his brow as he considered the prisoner hanging from long chains in the center of the cell. The man wouldn’t survive much longer if the damage already administered was any indication.

This particular cell was a cold, dark, dank room nestled in the furthest corner of The Den’s underground dungeon system. It bore no resemblance to the aesthetically pleasing and luxurious cells Kingston used for satisfying wicked fantasies and scenarios. This cell might have been transported from a medieval castle and plopped into place beneath The Den. The few nods to modern conveniences were electricity—very useful for those shock therapy sessions— running water that was always icy cold, and a sophisticated drainage system that allowed blood and other fluids to be washed away with the simple use of a hose.

“I told you what you wanted to know,” the man groaned, spitting out a mouthful of blood. He still swayed back and forth from a vicious blow to his stomach just seconds before.

“I appreciate your cooperation, Pickett.” Grabbing a fresh towel, Kingston blotted the sweat on his forehead. He grinned at the man. “But I’m convinced you have more to tell me. Although, if I’m being honest, I might just keep going for the sheer pleasure of it now.”

Pickett’s head dropped until his chin rested on his own chest. “Fuck.”

Kingston approached the man, grabbing a hunk of his hair and lifting his head. Peering into Pickett’s swollen eyes, he quietly said, “Do you have any idea how terrified she was? Or was that part of the plan? To scare her into running so someone could snatch her up.”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that’s true. I think the truth is rattling around in your mouth, trying to get out.” Kingston tilted his head. “Maybe there are too many teeth in there. Maybe that’s what is keeping all this information bottled up. Let’s see if I can fix that.”

Pickett’s moan was one of pure fright. Jerking at the chains encircling both wrists, he writhed desperately, toes barely scraping the concrete floor. “Please… I don’t know anything else. I don’t know about anything except what I already told you. The guy who left the note on the limo got pinched at the pickup location and I bailed on him.”

“Did Carson know you were such a lousy shot when he hired you to kill me?” Kingston released the handful of Pickett’s hair. Stepping toward a rolling cart that looked as though it belonged in a mechanic’s garage, he perused the items displayed on the top rack. Picking up a hefty pair of pliers, he tested the tool’s weight. “These should do the trick.”

“Wait.” Pickett’s body flailed as though he could escape the inevitable. The chains kept him elevated off the floor, placing all of his weight on his outstretched arms and restricting his movement. He could do little more than buck his body until it swayed like a clock’s pendulum. “Wait. Please!”

“I haven’t the time nor the patience to wait. You see, you are a job I must finish before I can move onto eliminating the next lowlife. Got a few to get through before I can consider my girl safe. So, forgive me if I’m in a hurry.” Kingston smirked, advancing with the pliers. “Jack? Hold his head still, will you?”

A muffled scream filled the cell, ending in a gurgling sound as Kingston opened the pliers and let the bloody tooth drop to the floor. “Now, let’s get you evened up. Can’t let you hang there with an uneven number of molars, can we?”

Another scream and a second tooth joined the first.

Pickett wrenched back and forth in a futile effort to escape the excruciating pain, choking on his own blood as details poured out. “Carson… gave me the details for the job. And…and Judge Vanderhorn fronted the money. His son got me an untraceable gun and a car. There’s another guy, too. The one who first contacted me.”

“What’s his name?” Kingston held his breath. If Pickett named Oliver as that man…. there was no telling how much blood would be shed.

He would rip his half-brother into a thousand little pieces and show no mercy.

Pickett was taking too long to answer. Swinging the pliers in an arcing motion, Kingston smashed one of the man’s kneecaps, eliciting a new howl of agony.

“FUCK! DA’s office,” Pickett mumbled as his scream died away. “Attorney in the DA’s office. Corning-something or another. Oh, fuck. I can’t think straight, man.” His head dropped back, eyes rolling until only the whites showed. “It hurts too much,” he said weakly just before he blacked out.

“Wake him up.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Jack snatched up a bucket of ice-cold water, tossing it over the unconscious man. Pickett gasped, sputtering as the shock revived him back to painful awareness.

Pickett’s confession was surprising. Kingston wondered if he heard the man right. Apparently, Oliver wasn’t behind the plot to shoot him, although there was no discounting his association in the scheme to take Ava from him just yet.

Drake Cornerstone. Was it possible the bland, unassuming lawyer Ava briefly dated was involved? The same man Kingston had FaceTimed while fucking his little prisoner just for the thrill of rubbing the conquest in the other man’s face?

“Are you sure it’s Cornerstone?” Kingston tapped Pickett’s uninjured kneecap with the head of the pliers.

“Yeah… guy’s name is Blake or maybe it’s Drake. Just can’t… remember… right now.” Pickett wasn’t moving as vigorously as before. No doubt, he was bleeding internally in addition to the blood dripping from the myriad of wounds decorating his body. “The judge… he promised the DA’s office would get me out a jam if I got caught.” He huffed out a pained laugh between cracked, bloodied lips. “And if you died, I could fuck the girl a couple of times as a bonus before they sold her off. There was something else about inheritance money but it’s all a little fuzzy right now.”

“See, now you’ve made me angry, Pickett. The verythoughtof you breathing the same air as her is enraging. As for you fucking her…if you weren’t already a dead man hanging, I’d cut off your balls and shove them down your throat.” Kingston laughed as Pickett bucked with renewed vigor. “And Judge Vanderhorn is dead, my friend. Shot himself a little more than an hour ago.” Kingston picked up the Glock, double-checking the attached silencer and racking the slide.

Unfortunately, he was not responsible for judge’s death. The man took the easy way out rather than waiting for Kingston to collect him. No matter. It freed up extra time to eliminate the other players in this nest of deceit and greed.

Pickett’s eyes closed in defeat. “Knew I shouldn’t have gotten mixed up in this fucking mess.”

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