Page 149 of Bonded in Death

Devin choked back the next scream, but couldn’t stop the tears. “I want my mom. I want my dad.”

“Then you’ll do exactly what I say. If you don’t, I’ll kill you. Then I’ll go kill your mom—she’s Kim, your dad, Roland, and your little brother, Silas. I’ll cut them up into little pieces, then set your house on fire.”

As the boy sobbed, Potter smiled.

“Is that what you want me to do? Is it!Is it?”

“No, no, please, mister. Please, please! I just wanna go home now.”

“You’re not going home, Devin. You’ll never go home again unless you do exactly what I tell you. Say exactly what I tell you to say.”

“I’m—I’m cold.”

“Fuck your cold! And stop your sniveling or I’ll give you something to snivel about.”

Potter rose, stepped over, bent down, and gave the smooth young cheek a hard slap. “Want more?”

Shaking his head, choking on sobs, Devin tried to curl into a ball.

In his whole life, no one had ever struck him. No adult had ever, ever shouted the f-word at him.

The bad dream was real. Monsters were real even though his parents told him they weren’t.

Potter went back to the chair.

“Now, once you do and say what you’re told, you’ll stay here while I run an errand. At that time, I’ll free your ankles so if you need to urinate or vomit while I’m away, you’ll use the bucket. If you urinate or vomit on my nice, clean floor, I’ll punish you on my return. Do you understand?”

With his chin tucked into his chest, Devin nodded.

“Look at me when I speak to you, disrespectful brat. And say: ‘Yes, sir, I understand, sir!’”

Fearing another slap—or worse—Devin looked up at the monster. “Yes, sir, I understand, sir.”

“Very good. Now, let’s begin.”

It took more than an hour because the boy kept fumbling. Potter had to get the brat some water when his voice turned to a croak. And tissues, as the snot running out of his nose was disgusting.

But he finally had what he wanted. And after some editing, he’d have perfection.

He considered just putting a bullet in the boy’s ear and finishing it. But he’d need the brat for the follow-up.

So he walked over with the clippers. “Try to run, scream, I’ll break your leg. Then I’ll go to your house and use these on your mum. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”

Potter’s smile spread. “Very good.”

He clipped the ankle tie. “Use the bucket if necessary.”

“Can I please go home, sir?”

“When I get back from my errand. I told you, what you said was a trap for a very bad person. Once that’s taken care of, you can go home.”

Potter shut the door, locked it.

He went upstairs to edit the recording, and glanced at the monitor.

The boy did use the bucket to urinate, but fumbled that, too. Some dribbled down his pants, some hit the floor.

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