Page 86 of Moonstruck
Jericho kissed the side of Atticus’s head. “Of course, you were, Freckles.”
“Not me,” Zane said, letting the sharpened tweezers sit just above the thick strap across Jerry’s chest. “I sucked at it. But my brother, Gage, was amazing.”
Jerry had tears streaming down his cheeks, but Zane found he truly didn’t give a fuck about his tears, real or fake.
“Do you remember my brother?”
“No. What? No. Why would I know your brother?” Jerry asked.
Zane dug the sharpened tweezers into the man’s doughy chest, then opened them, concentrating on the way his flesh parted. “That’s a lie, Jerry. My brother played your game.”
“What ga—”
Zane twisted the tiny tweezers, burrowing them deeper while Jerry screamed. “We have your DVD collection, you sick fuck. But if you want me to grab the scalpel, we can see if my skills have improved since first grade. Up to you.”
Jerry’s chest was heaving, blood following the plane’s of his body to drip on the table, earning a miserable look from Atticus. Still, Jerry shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Zane sighed. “Have it your way.” He placed the tweezers down on the counter and picked up a larger scalpel. “Atticus, if I were to slice him open here,”—he indicated a spot on the man’s bloated belly—“would I kill him?”
“No, there’s plenty of padding before you nick the intestines,” Atticus said, bored. “But if you decide to eviscerate him, I beg of you, do it outside. Once the intestines fall out, they’re almost impossible to put back in.”
Zane shrugged. “I’ll try to keep everything where it belongs.”
He placed the scalpel against Jerry’s skin, but before he could even move the blade, Jerry screamed, “Wait! Wait. I admit it. I knew your brother. I knew him. Okay?”
Part of Zane was disappointed Jerry was so easy to break. “Why?”
“Why what?” Jerry asked.
“Why did you do that to him? To them? To anybody?” Zane pressed, shaking his head.
“Because they deserved it,” Jerry said, spit flying. “They have everything, and they just whine and bitch about how hard their lives are. They only have what they do because they have an advantage over me.”
“Intelligence?” Atticus asked.
Avi pointed at Jerry. “Basic hygiene?”
“Sports prowess?” Jericho asked.
“Looks. It was all about their looks. That’s all anybody cares about. I had the smarts to get into any school but they discriminated against me because I wasn’t a Chad.”
“A Chad?” Jericho asked.
“Incel talk for popular guy,” Avi said.
Zane could feel his blood boiling. “My brother was valedictorian, had a million extracurriculars, and could have gotten a sports scholarship if he didn’t get the academic one. My brother’s admission had nothing to do with his looks. You’re delusional.”
Jerry sneered. “That’s what all guys who look like you say. You don’t want to admit it’s not just chicks who have the upper hand because they’re hot.”
Zane dropped the scalpel and punched Jerry in the face, knocking off his glasses, letting himself enjoy the crunching cartilage and the blood exploding from his nose. He liked it so much, he did it again and again. He didn’t even realize he’d done much damage until Asa was pulling him off of Jerry.
“Easy, Lois. We can’t question him if you cave in his face,” Asa said, holding onto him until he quit struggling.
“Make him tell us about the game master,” Zane snarled. “If I get near him again, I’ll fucking kill him, and he doesn’t deserve a quick death.”
Those not strapped to a table closed in around Jerry, looking down at his beaten face.
“What do you say, Jerry? Care to answer our questions, or should I get out the blindfold and show you how we play Operation?” Asa asked.
