Page 88 of Twice as Twisted

“For the last time, I didn’t run away,” I say, throwing up my hands. “I’d never leave Boots. I would have gone back, but it was a long walk, and I knew you’d come get me. You knew where to find me.”

Boots looks at me, his eyes wide, one ear flicking in annoyance. I reach for him, and he allows me to pull him from Baron’s arms into my lap. I never understood how Baron won him over. The first time Boots saw him, he hissed and ran under the bed. The next time, he was tame as a kitten. I later wondered if that meant it had been Duke that took me on our second date, not Baron. Or maybe it was the opposite. But I’ll never know. And if that’s the case, then the boy talking to me now is Duke. I promised myself I wouldn’t go down that path again, though, so I stop myself right there.

It doesn’t matter. I have them both, for better or worse.

“If this is going to work, we have to trust each other,” Baron says. “We followed through with our end. We need a guarantee that you won’t run again.”

“I told you, I didn’t, and I won’t.”

“You had to know we were testing you when we left you alone,” he says. “You thought you’d test us back, see how far we’d let you go. Don’t worry, little monster. I’m not disappointed. I wouldn’t expect anything less. You were testing our limits with something that seemed innocent enough that you think you can talk your way out of it. But you can’t. Next time, you’ll go further. We can’t start out this way. There are rules, and when you break them, you face the consequences.”

“I did,” I say, shrinking down against the pillows. “You already punished me.”

“I’m not talking about punishment,” he says. “I’m talking about your promise. Show us you won’t leave.”

“I won’t.”

“And now you’ll prove it,” he says, nodding to Duke. “Our punishing you was to show what we would do. Now we need you to show us what you’ll do.”

“What will I do?” I ask, my pulse erratic.

“You’ll show your commitment to staying by removing your ability to run.”

Duke seems to know what he wants, and he brings over the giant pliers Baron set on the dresser. I struggle to breathe.

“What is that for?”

“You’re going to break your toes,” Baron says, handing them to me. “To show us you won’t break your promise.”

“I won’t!” I cry again.

“Words are cheap,” he says. “We need tangible proof.”

He reaches for Boots, but I turn away, not trusting him when he has those things in his hand.

He pulls me back, his eyes calm and unrelenting.

“Don’t hurt him,” I cry. “Promise me.”

“Do what I say, and I’ll have no reason to,” he says, extracting Boots from my arms and setting him carefully on the floor. The cat stalks away, flicking his tail and looking gravely offended by the struggle over him.

Baron presses the pliers into my hand. I stare at him, pleading with my eyes.

Of course, Baron shows no mercy.

“Did you use these on that girl?” I whisper, staring at the instrument instead of him.

“Yes,” Baron says. “But I sterilized them. You don’t think I’d keep anything with a dead girl’s blood on it, do you?”

“Please,” I whisper, tears welling in my eyes before the pain even begins.

“Go on,” Baron says, pulling the blanket completely off the bed, baring my feet with their toes curled under at the thought of what’s coming. “Show us what you’re willing to do to be our partner.”

I stare at my toes, the shell pink polish I chose when I went with my aunt to get a pedicure. Slowly, I curl my leg up. My hands are shaking so hard I can barely get the instrument around my toe. I start with the little one. I pinch it in the metal grip, then close my eyes, take a breath, and twist. I feel the crack through every bone in my body. Pain shoots through my leg, and a choked sob escapes my trembling lips. I take another breath, then grip the next one. The pain is deeper this time, but I know I have to do it fast, before it really sinks in, before the shock wears off and my body realizes the extent of the damage.

I twist hard, a tortured cry escaping this time when my toe snaps.

“Oh, god,” I gasp out, panting and shaking. An insane, maniacal laugh bubbles up, and before it can end, I grab the next one and jerk the pliers down. I have this manic urge to crackthem all one after another, like snap beans, as fast as I can. The power is exhilarating, even as the agony is starting to throb through my foot, up my leg.

---