Page 152 of Crazed

He gags, and I step away before his puke hits me.

Gianni claps loudly. "Now we're getting somewhere."

"Give me the cheese grater," I order.

Dante hands it to me. The flat stainless steel is smooth on one side. The back has sharp, raised metal.

I release Leo's head, take the grater, and press the rough side under his shoulder. In a swift move, I slide it over his nipple, slicing bits off.

His scream sounds like an animal in pain. It echoes in the small cell, mixing with his whimpers.

Fat Tony's sweat runs down his body, and he cries out, "I swear I'm not an Abruzzo."

Tristano shakes his head. "So, what? You just take advantage of the women they enslave?"

"Because who would choose to fuck him? Look at the slob," Gianni states, then steps up and gets into a boxer stand. He pummels Fat Tony's stomach a dozen times like a punching bag. His stomach jiggles like jelly as he cries, begging Gianni to stop.

When he does, bruises begin forming on Fat Tony's stomach. Purple and red color the skin, and his stomach swells even more.

I refocus on Leo, sweeping the grater between his legs so it destroys his balls. New screams fill the air. Luca hands me the larger paintbrush, dipped in fresh stain. I hold it in front of Leo's nostrils, waiting for his sobs to lessen.

"Not such a scary motherfucker anymore, are you?" Luca taunts.

Leo's bloodshot eyes won't stop watering. I assume it's a mix of tears and toxic fumes. He sobs, "Please. Just get it over with."

New rage surfaces within me. I bark, "Is that what my wife begged you?"

He doesn't answer. His breath continues coming out in ragged bursts, and his head hangs toward the floor.

"Hold his head up," I order.

Luca yanks it back, and I land a right hook on his face as hard as possible.

Blood spurts everywhere. The cracking sound of his nose fills the small space. It moves to the side of his face, under his right eye. There's so much swelling, I can barely recognize him.

"Nice hook, bro," Dante praises.

I bark, "Admit that you threatened my wife to work for you, even though she didn't want any part of your twisted game."

His eyes swell so much, they're almost shut. He mumbles, "She's a whore."

I slam my left fist, and his nose moves to the left side of his face.

"Massimo, take a breather," Papà orders.

I glance at him in question.

He holds a shot glass in the air, giving me the look. He uses it when he's afraid we'll kill someone too soon before getting information out of them. He reiterates, "Come. It's my turn."

I reluctantly step away, down the sambuca, and spend the next few hours letting Papà and my brothers interrogate Leo and Fat Tony about the Abruzzo operations. From time to time, I step in and escalate the punishments.

Most of the information comes from Fat Tony, who sings like a canary more and more every time Leo weakly orders him not to speak.

We learn about the Abruzzo's plans to infiltrate our gem business, more men who are traitors, and several more FBI raids scheduled for our other businesses in the city. When it's clear there's only a window of time left before Leo takes his last breath, Papà motions for me to resume my activities.

I coat his entire body in stain then order the others, "Step back."

They obey, and I pick up the flamethrower, move several feet away, and blast the fire at Leo.

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