Page 74 of Ruthless

I grab a pair of pliers off the rusty table on the side of the room. His black eyes follow my every move, and I can only imagine what must be going through his head. The last thing I want to do is disappoint him.

“Keep him still.” I slam my hand against his wrist and feel his muscles tense up underneath my grip.

Axel grips him by his hair and forces his chin to stay up. “You aren’t gonna want to miss this.”

I place the tip of the pliers on the edge of his pointer fingernail and wait him out. Sometimes it’s what you don’t do or say that scares people more. And I’ll fuck with his head anyway I can until he gives me what I want.

“Who is Lobo?”

“Chingàte tu madre, puto.” He spits blood in my face and laughs.

“What did he say?” Axel asks.

“Fuck your mother, bitch,” Isaac answers from next to the doorway.

Axel slaps him upside the head. “Let’s leave our mama out of this, asshole.”

“Hold him still, Ax.” I clamp down on the handles until I feel the teeth grip onto his fingernail and pull back toward me, ripping it clean off in one go.

The smug look drops off his face as he screams like a little bitch and fights against the chair, but he can’t move. The legs are bolted to the floor. It really is the perfect playground.

“Nine more to go.” I hold up the pliers, showing off my handiwork. “We run out of nails, we’ll start with your fingers next and work our way down to the rest.”

I keep at him for the next five minutes, pulling out each fingernail one by one. Pretty soon, he’s almost out of fingernails, and I’m running out of patience. The fucker is persistent. I’ll give him that.

Sweat drips down his neck as his head hangs limp against his chest. He’s close to passing out, but I will revive him and do this all over again if I have to.

“Feel like chatting yet?” I give him one last chance to tell me what I want to know. “I guess not.”

“This little pinky went to the market,” Axel taunts as I latch the teeth of the pliers just below the knuckle of his index finger. It’s meatier, and he’ll have nothing but a fucking nub left.

I watch him for any sign he’ll break and strikeout. My hand clamps down onto his finger and squeezes until his blood coats my hands.

Miguel’s head falls back, and he screams once more as I work the pliers from side to side, cutting through flesh and eventually bone. “Farmhouse. He’s got them out at the abandoned farmhouse on Pickett’s Mill Dive.”

Just because he gave up the information doesn’t mean he’s off the hook. I finish severing the finger and step back to admire my handy work. He’s seconds from passing out as I tap him across the face. “Was that so hard.”

“Shit,” Asher grinds out.

“What?”

Asher’s frowning at his phone. “That’s just over an hour away.”

Axel shows me the time on his phone, and everything inside me stills.

“You’re too late. Pick up’s at six.” Miguel starts laughing and choking on his own blood. “You’ll never make it in time. I made sure of that.”

“I will. Can’t say the same for you.” I pull out my gun and unload the entire clip into his chest.

I’ll get to her in time. I have to. Failure isn’t an option.

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

Kennedy

My back is on fire, and the rest of my body is too weak to move. After the bastard finished whipping, he threw us two water bottles and a bucket for a makeshift toilet. That was several hours ago, and he hasn’t been back since.

I’ve been lying down on my side with my head in Fiona’s lap, picturing myself anywhere but here. My body’s gone numb from the cold, but I can imagine the sun’s warmth beating down on my face like I’m at the beach. I can even smell the saltwater in the air.

---