Page 65 of Reckless Promises

If you need information, you have to be willing to play the long game. You get close. You gain trust. You insert yourself and manipulate them until they eventually hand you what you need. You convince them it’s their idea. They’re none the wiser.

But torture is volatile. People will say and do anything. Which is why it doesn’t actually benefit anyone except the person inflicting the pain.

It’s selfish—sadistic. And exactly what I’m after right now becausehe put his hands on my fucking wife.

“There’s no use lying to me.” I drag my knife down his arm, and he screams the entire path. “I’m not here to ask questions.”

“Then why?”

I smirk, setting down the knife and grabbing a thin pair of plyers. Turning back to him, I tuck one edge under his thumbnail.

“I already told you.” I dig it in deeper. “Because of Odette.”

I rip his nail off and he tips his head back in a scream. It’s not restrained because it doesn’t need to be when he can’t move the rest of his body. And because it’s more satisfying to see him struggle.

Felix shakes his head as I move to the next nail, but he’s gurgling from the pain, so he can’t get his thoughts out. And that’s fine. I don’t want him to speak. I don’t want his excuses.

I want to hear him scream for me.

For her.

And that’s what he does.

Twenty: the number of finger and toenails I rip off him.

One-hundred-sixty-five: the number of cuts I make on his skin.

Three: the number of toes he loses before he blacks out and I have to wake him up again.

Felix is a puddle of sweat and blood. He can barely keep his eyes open, and his entire body is shaking. Unfortunately, there’s only so long you can torture a person before it’s no longer satisfying. And I have a wife to get back to.

Walking up to the head of the table, I grab my favorite knife and hold it to the edge of Felix’s neck. Right in the same spot he left the mark on my wife, and I look him straight in the eyes.

He’s whispering to himself. Mumbling. Crying. He might even be praying.

But men who end up at the other end of my blade don’t find God when they die.

Holding his gaze a final time, I dig the knife into his flesh and drag it all the way around his throat. I cut him open and watch him choke on his blood. I watch until his skin pales and his eyes empty. Until his entire body stops flailing.

Only then does Daniel stand up and walk over to me, taking the blade from my hand. He doesn’t ask questions. He just gets to work.

“Clean it up,” I say, as I turn to leave the basement.

It’s done. And now, I need to kiss my wife.

24

Cillian

Odette’s still sleeping whenI step back into the room, and when I glance at the clock, I realize I’ve been gone three hours. It’s easy to lose sense of time down there.

No natural light.

No moral compass.

Part of me wishes I’d kept Felix alive. I could have left him down there until he lost his mind as slowly as I’d make him lose his limbs. But he’s had enough time. I took care of what Gabriel should have done years ago. Another reason Odette’s father will get what’s coming to him.

Walking into the bathroom, I don’t turn on the lights because I don’t want to wake Odette. There’s enough of a glow from the moon to see, and when I turn to the mirror, I’m covered in blood.

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