Page 16 of A Past Too Broken

Molly grins and dismounts, bending his knees to help absorb the impact. “It was nice meeting you properly, Min. We’ll have to do it again soon.”

With that, Molly and Elijah leave.

“He’s weird,” Min says.

“Yep,” I reply absently, tugging at the bonds holding Gary to the chair. “Have a plan, Minni?” I ask.

His dark gaze snaps to me and he glares. “Did you call me a freaking mouse?” he hisses.

I shrug. “I mean, after the past year… I thought it was fitting.”

He huffs and struggles to stand from the cot, so I help him up. He wavers on his feet for a moment. When I steady him, he looks up at me, the ire of the nickname dissipating from his eyes while something akin to lust takes its place.

Quickly, he steps back and moves to the portable tray where an array of tools are set up, ready and waiting for what’s to come.

While Min fiddles with his weapons of choice, I pull out my smokes and move to the far corner of the room. Min looks at me but doesn’t say anything, so I light a cigarette and focus on the much-needed nicotine rather than the spark that’s slowly been gaining strength between us.

Min slaps Gary’s face a few times until the asshole jerks in his seat and wakes. He takes a few minutes to get his bearings, and when he sees his son, he fights his bonds.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Min tells him. “You’re mine now, and you’re not getting out of here until I make you pay.”

“You have more balls than I thought, Minato,” Gary spits. “Rather brave of you to have someone else do your dirty work.” He turns his head and looks at me. “Gonna have him kill me, too?”

I laugh. “Your son is perfectly capable of getting his hands bloodied, sir. I’m just here for moral support.” I take another drag of the cigarette and watch as his face turns red before he looks back at Min.

“Well? Are you going to do something? Or just stand there like the weakling you are?”

“Mind if I borrow your lighter, Zay?”

“Certainly.” I toss it to him.

“I’m not going to bother with a speech; we both know what you did. What else is there to say?” Min flicks the lighter and holds the flame up for Gary to see. “Instead, I’m just going to show you.”

He moves faster than he should with his wound, but I stay silent, content to watch the show.

Min grabs the back of Gary’s thinning gray hair and holds tight. He flicks the lighter again, holding it to Gary’s face. The smell of burning flesh makes me glad I hadn’t eaten meat for dinner, as my stomach churns a little. I’ve seen and done a lot of shit, but fire hasn’t ever been part of that.

Min burns Gary’s face until his father’s voice goes hoarse from screaming, and the room is full of smoke and burnt flesh. I wrinkle my nose as I snuff out my cigarette on the wall behind me, pocketing the butt.

Min tosses the lighter onto the tray and picks up a paring knife. “I’ve thought about this for years,” he says just loud enough for me to hear. “I’ve thought about all the ways I can torture you, how many times I could get you to scream for me…”

I can’t see his expression from the angle I’m at, but I imagine it’s as dead as the tone of his voice. My heart aches for him, and instead of trying to shut that down, I allow it. The kinship we’ve been building over the last year means I want nothing more than to cross the room and comfort the man. I want to take the pain from him and do something to help ease this journey, but I also know this is something he has to do for himself. This is Min’s path of healing, and I have to let him have it.

He moves around his father and pulls his head back, exposing his throat and bringing the knife to it. “I should have killed you all those years ago,” he says softly. “Should have taken your miserable life when I had the chance. But well… better late than never.” Instead of slitting his throat, Min looks up at me. “Come hold him, please.”

Quickly, I do as asked, gripping Gary’s shoulders tight and holding him to the chair. Min releases his arms from the rope, then unties his hands from each other. I grip one of Gary’s hands in mine, squeezing tight, while Min holds his other arm out, palm side up.

Gary struggles, and I have to exert enough pressure to his arm and shoulder that I feel the bone in his forearm break. It doesn’t matter, not when Min slices Gary’s wrist nice and deep, squeezing his forearm to make blood rush faster through the wound.

“Oh no,” Min says in a hard voice. “How sad it is that he killed himself.”

As realization dawns on Gary, Min moves to the other side and I hold Gary’s arm steady as Min slices his other wrist. Min is trembling after completing the slash, and I take the knife from him, tossing it onto the tray, then pulling Min into my arms.

Holding him tightly, we watch as Gary bleeds out in front of us. Min shakes the entire time, but he doesn’t look away as the light in Gary’s eyes begins to die out.

“He made you watch… didn’t he?” I ask, not sure if I want the answer or not.

Min rubs at his wrists. “I still have marks from fighting against the cuffs. He tightened them so much, they cut into my skin and bled; I needed stitches. It’s why they listened to me when I told them what he did. They couldn’t ignore the proof right in front of them.”

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