Page 4 of No Mercy In Red

I looked up at him from the blowtorch I’d swept up from the bench. Clicking it on, the small blue flame flickered in the dim basement light as I mumbled, “You held out longer than the last guy, I’ll give you that.”

I stepped closer, letting the heat from the flame brush against his skin, watching as he flinched, his body tense with the anticipation of pain. Then, I lowered the torch toward the sensitive area between his legs. His scream tore out of him, damn near blowing my ear drums as he began to piss himself. I didn’t enjoy this part, not entirely. But I needed the confession, I needed to do what my father had and bring these assholes down, so I could be the hero my father was to so many by clearing the world of these pieces of shit one man at a time. Tony told me my father got his victims from all over Canada, that there was a large network of men and women that all worked together. But often, the men were brought here because my father’s basement was the perfect place to torture and destroy these men, and the lake was the perfect dumping ground. He never taped his confessions though, he did it silently, torturing them and then disposing of them like the trash that they were. But as someone who had been abused, I would have done anything to get that apology from my ex-boyfriend, just to hear him say sorry, even if it was beaten out of him. To hear him confess to everything he did to me, it wouldn’t have healed the wounds, but it would’ve given me a sense of peace. That’s why I decided that killing them wasn’t enough, that I needed their confessions, so their victims could get some kind of closure.

It took ripping his god damn fingernail off to get that fucking confession and apology.

Chapter 3

Connor

‘Hey man, I have a huge favour to ask, fancy meeting me at Karina’s at 7? Beer on me.’

Never, in all our years of friendship had this man asked me for a favour and that alone made me suspicious. Joe was the kind of guy who once spent an entire summer trying to train a squirrel to fetch his keys, not someone you would exactly call an independent thinker. So, if he was calling in a favour, it meant one of two things—either he needed to borrow money, or he needed me to hack into something highly illegal.

Naturally, I was intrigued, so I texted back back without hesitation:

‘You have my attention, O Mysterious One. But if this is about your squirrel army again, I’m out’.

His response was almost too quick:

‘Not the squirrels this time. See you at 7.’

I sighed, already regretting my life choices, and forced myself through another mind-numbing day at work. Being a cyber security expert wasn’t the exhilarating life of digital espionage I had once envisioned. Instead of hacking into rouge billionaire accounts and thwarting criminal masterminds, I spent most of my time resetting passwords for peoplewho thought “password123” was Fort Knox-level security, so by the time 6pm rolled around, I was more than ready for a drink.

I showed up at Karina’s a little early, grabbing a booth in the corner, nursing a beer whilst mentally preparing for whatever nonsense Joe was about to drop on me.

“Hey handsome, come here often?” A soft, sultry voice purred.

I looked up from my beer, straight into the face of a thick, long haired brunette with baby blue eyes. I smirked, I didn’t consider myself God like on any level, but I knew I was an attractive guy, I knew what women saw when they looked at me. I was over six foot, broad enough to fill a doorway, to draw attention to my presence. I wasn’t hulking, I was lean, but with muscled shoulders and arms, built from years of workouts that weren’t just for show. I’d never again be the little boy that was kicked to the floor, I’d never again be helpless. But I also built myself strong enough so I could enjoy a woman how a woman should be enjoyed, so I could pick her up, no matter her size, and throw her onto a mattress. So that I could pin her down, pull her close. Other than ensuring I was strong, my appearance never truly mattered to me. I was clean, but with messy, tousled dark brown hair, strands always falling over my forehead into my eyes, no matter how many times I brushed them back. A sharp jawline, with cheekbones to match, dusted with light stubble. My dark brown eyes were framed by thick, dark lashes – the kind of contrast that made women stare a little too long. Women had told me before it wasn’t just my face that did it for them, it was the way my eyes could look into their soul. The way my hands, larger than average, veins protruding, could rest on their thighs and own it. The way I could make them feel desired and devoured all at once, they loved it.

“Not often enough if I haven’t seen your pretty face before.” I smiled, signalling at her to sit.

She giggled, taking a seat opposite me, her thick thighs brushing past the table before her ass hit the seat. Jesus, she was fucking hot. We spokefor a few minutes, my eyes slowly trailing down to her chest, slow enough so she noticed, a blush creeping across her face. Right on cue, he walked in looking like a child that was holding onto the biggest secret they had ever been told, and one that was bursting to release it.

“I have an important meeting now, sweetheart. But put your number in here, maybe if you’re lucky I’ll text you.” I winked at her.

I slid my phone across the table for her to put the number in, watching as she bit her lower lip whilst punching her name into the phone. She gave me a soft smile before standing and leaving with another giggle. She was going to be fun to rail.

Joe slid into the booth across from me, rubbing his hands together. “Alright, before I say anything, who the fuck was that?”

I looked down at my phone, reading her name, “Ellie, apparently.”

He squinted, “How the fuck do you do that? Just have random girls coming up to you all flustered and shit, its so fucking annoying.”

I laughed, gesturing to myself, “What can I say, I’m just simply more fuckable than you. Now what is it you’ve dragged me here for?”

He flipped me off, “First of all, fuck you, second of all, just know that A) I trust you, and also, this is probably illegal.”

I took a long sip of my beer, “What happened to B? But colour me curious Joey boy, hit me.”

He leaned in, not even pausing for breath before saying, “I need you to help me catch a serial killer.”

I blinked, ‘Well, that escalated quickly. Warm a guy up first next time, Jesus.’

Joe nodded, blowing out a breath, “Yeah, I figured easing into it wasn’t my strong suit, I’ve been holding onto this all fucking day man!”

I set my beer down on the sticky table, raising an eyebrow at him, “Okay, you do realise that normally when people ask for a favour they mean like, helping them get out of a bad tinder date not ‘hey buddy, wanna track down a murderer?’”

Joe shrugged, “Look, I know that it’s a lot to as, and maybe I could have eased you into it, but this is a big case, and I need your help. Just hear me out.” He pleaded.

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