Page 99 of In The Dark
“What did I do to deserve a friend like you?” I smile weakly. “Make sure you put in a little bit of milk and a touch of sugar. She likes her tea sweet.”
“You’ll tell me if you need me?”
“Yeah. Thanks. I’ll be up when I can. And I’ll make sure there’s no trace of him when I’m finished. I brought him here, and the last thing I want is for you to get involved in this in case anyone starts asking questions.”
“Like that will happen.” He snorts. “Take your time. I’ll text you if she needs you.”
“Appreciate you.” I jog downstairs and turn on the light, laughing when Connor winces and shuts his eyes. “Nap time is over, mother fucker.”
“Thought you’d be gone longer, but then I remember Max is a quick fuck.”
I know he’s baiting me, and it takes all of my willpower to walk past him and not drill a nail into his skull.
“Funny. With a dick that small, I’m surprised you could fuck at all,” I toss back, and he scowls.
“I’ve had no complaints.”
“You sure? Because she screams my name when I’m with her. I doubt she even whispered yours.” I open my toolbox and weigh a wrench in my hand. “Did someone hit you growing up?”
“What?” Connor frowns at the change in question.
“I’m just wondering how you started down this road of abusing women. Were you a violent kid?”
There’s a long pause and I look over my shoulder to make sure he’s still awake.
“My father. He…” Connor shakes his head. “He did fucked up shit to me. It made me think that—” Another pause. “That that was how I was supposed to act too. I’ve tried to break the cycle but I… I can’t. I like it too much.”
I want to feel sympathy for him. I want to share that my dad the same thing, that we’re similar in more ways than he knows, but that’s where our paths no longer overlap. Ididbreak the cycle. I will never have the urges he does, and I can’t feel an ounce of remorse toward a man who knowingly harms women because he fucking can.
“The first person I killed was my father.” I trade out the wrench for a crowbar and walk toward him. “He abused my mother. Me too, occasionally, but not as much as her. I bashed his skull in. Staged it to look like a suicide, and no one dug into his death because no one cared about him. I’ve killed eighty-six people since then, but you? I’m going to enjoy killing you the most.”
“We’ve been here for almost an hour and you haven’t done shit. I’m starting to think you’re all talk.” Connor laughs. “You really just a fucking pretty boy, aren’t you?”
“Maybe we should change that.” I drop the crowbar on the ground and adjust the shackle around his right wrist. I move the chains up his arm and flash my knife. “Want to count to three for me?”
“What are you doing?” His eyes widen with horror when I touch the blade to his skin. “You can’t—I’m not?—”
“One.”
“Please.Please. What about my foot? Or my ear?”
“Two.”
“I’ll do anything you want.Anything. Just let me?—”
I don’t get to three. I bring the knife up then back down, slicing through his flesh. His screams fill the room as his severed hand falls on the tarp with a thump. Blood pours out of him in spurts, and I pick up his discarded limb by the finger, holding it in front of him. Making a tourniquet is useless; I don’t want to save the fucker. Letting him see what I’ve taken from him is more fun.
“There are consequences when you touch things that don’t belong to you, Connor. And because not only did you touch Max, but youhither too, I have to take the other one.”
Connor blinks, his cheeks turning pale. “The other one?”
This time, I don’t count down. I bring the knife to his left wrist, this cut cleaner than the first. Connor’s body tilts forward, his head lolling as the chains tightening with his movement. He gags, projectile vomit spewing halfway across the basement floor, and I sigh.
More fucking clean up.
We’ve reached the point of no return, his shock setting in as his organs start to shut down. I let go of both limbs and kick them out of the way, proud of myself. This is the most dismembering I’ve ever done. The most restraint I’ve ever shown too, because I could’ve ended this in six seconds like I do with most of the people on my hit list.
“How are you doing, Connor?” I ask. I touch the blade to his nose then his cheek, testing his reflexes. There’s nothing there but clammy skin. Shallow breathing and disorientation. “Wow. I thought you would’ve held on longer than that. Guess you can’t take it, huh?” He mumbles something incoherent, a trickle of blood running down the corner of his mouth. I move the knife under his neck, lifting his chin. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you. Say that one more time?”
