Page 80 of Crazed

How am I going to get them from Papà?

My phone buzzes. I glance at the screen.

Tristano:Where are you? Papà and Tully are getting antsy to start.

Me:On my way.

I take the card out of the reader and lock it in my safe. I leave my office and go straight to the dungeon. When I get to the bottom of the stairs, the moans and cries of the agents fill my ears.

The desire to slice through Dominico is so strong, I have to pause outside the cell door. I need to find out why he's watching Katiya, so I can't kill him right away. This is going to take every ounce of discipline I have.

What if he reveals something I don't want Papà or anyone else to know?

For the first time in my life, I'm unsure if I want to know the truth.

Katiya is a good girl. There's an explanation for all of this,I try to convince myself. Yet the nagging dread I can't shake only grows.

The door flies open. A cloud of cigar smoke seeps out of the room. Tully arches his eyebrows. "Coming in?"

I shove past him, still pissed he had us kidnap federal agents in broad daylight and about all of his antics. I don't have time on a normal day for the constant guessing games Tully plays, much less today. Now that my girl's involved, I have zero patience. I'm two steps from ripping his head off.

The crowded cell instantly feels suffocating. It's the biggest one we have, but the Marinos and O'Connors, along with the six naked, restrained agents, fill the space. Tully's cigar smoke, the residual smell of death, and stale alcohol mix with the rancid odor of sweat and urine.

Tristano gives me a funny look, but it quickly disappears. He tosses me a pair of black rubber gloves. Then he dips a pizza cutter in acid and holds it out to me. "Thought we'd try something new today."

I slide my hands into the gloves, curl my fingers around the wooden handle, then watch the liquid drip off the steel blade. There's no room to be careless in the dungeon, especially with our chemicals. The acid Tristano picked will burn through your skin right to the bone in seconds upon contact. It's perfect for a slow, torturous death. Not too much blood with maximum amounts of pain. And any infection will set in long after I'm ready for them to take their last breath.

Tristano steps in front of Dominico, holding a metal tongue depressor dipped in acid. He taps it on Dominico's leg, and the skin disappears, displaying a part of his kneecap.

Dominico screams.

Tristano shakes his head at me, declaring, "Amateurs." Then he steps closer to Dominico, asking, "You've been to the doctor, right? I assume you know what this is really for?"

Dominico's eyes grow wider. The other agents' shallow breaths fill the room. Every scent seems to intensify.

Tristano leans into his ear, stating loud enough for everyone to hear, "Let me refresh your memory. It's meant for your tongue. So you have two options. The first is to open wide. The second is to answer our questions without any hesitation. Which one will it be?"

Dominico's nostrils flare as he tries to control his breathing. His eyes dart from Tristano's face to the depressor.

The debate in my head about how to get him to answer questions about Katiya without the others finding out ends. There is no way out of this, and I have to know before he dies.

I step next to Tristano and hold the pizza cutter in front of his face. "My brother is too nice. I won't let him use that tool on your tongue. I'll slice it off with this." I roll the blade from his shoulder to right above his belly button, and his cries fill the air. His skin melts like plastic on a bonfire. One of his ribs pokes out of his body, and for extra pain, I roll the pizza cutter over it.

He screams louder while the sound and smell of piss from another agent swirls around us.

I order, "Tell me why you were monitoring Katiya."

The eyes of both families turn on me, and I try to ignore them as best as possible, keeping my focus on Dominico. I expect him to cave, but, to my surprise, he keeps his mouth shut.

Luca dips his gloved finger in the acid bucket then steps next to the agent next to Dominico. He holds it in front of him. "Your turn, Baskin. Want to answer the question?"

Baskin spits, hitting Luca below his eye.

A sinister smile grows on Luca's lips. He leaves the spit on his cheek and steps closer. "After all our history, I was hoping you'd say that." He drags his finger down Baskin's arm then circles his elbow.

Baskin's screams are more muffled than Dominico's. He never takes his eyes off Luca. I don't know about their history, but I get the impression there's no love lost between the two.

The skin around Baskin's arm fades away until it's only his raw elbow. Luca presses his finger on the bone, and Baskin's cries get louder as it begins to disintegrate. He holds out his hand toward me. "Give me your tool."

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