Page 65 of Iron Fist

“Sometimes the most effective interrogation techniques are the simplist,” Dante says casually. He pulls the bag over Thorpe’s head, closing it off around his neck. Inside the bag, Thorpe screams and starts to struggle. Dante counts off twenty seconds, then pulls the bag off. Thorpe gasps and sucks in large lungfuls of air, his face red and sweaty.

“So, that’s what we’re lookin’ at for the next hours of your life,” I tell Thorpe. “That, or I blow your head off right now and it’s over. Don’t ever say I didn’t give you any choices.”

“Okay, okay!” Thorpe chokes. “I… I did… what you said.”

“Start from the beginning,” I grit out. The hand not holding the gun clenches into a fist. “Everything. Every goddamn thing.”

It takes two more times with the bag, but we get it all out of him. How my father approached Thorpe about trapping Aurora into sex. About how the plan was for him to take pictures of her and show them to me, but in the end she was too unconscious for it to look convincing, and anyway, Thorpe was afraid I’d blame him for it.

How my dad withheld the money he was going to pay Thorpe when Thorpe refused to show me the pics, but then paid him double once I split up with Aurora.

The whole time he’s talking, Rory’s face is in my mind. Young, perfect Aurora, who loved me, and got drugged and raped because of it.

Thorpe didn’t know she got pregnant. That much is clear. Aurora never told him, and no one else knew except me. She lived alone with that, and the miscarriage, torturing her for years.

In the end, I almost do kill Thorpe. The blood lust I feel when I look at him is unlike any I’ve ever experienced. In the end, it’s only what it would do to Rory that stops me. She would find out about Thorpe’s death and know I did it. I can’t traumatize her any more. Even if I want this more than almost anything I’ve ever wanted.

But in the end, this is about her. Not about me.

That doesn’t stop me from meting out my own justice.

I stick my gun in the waistband of my jeans. “You son of a bitch,” I seethe. “You fucking piece of goddamngarbage. You will never, ever rape anyone again.”

His head bobs furiously, desperate to cling on to the one thread, however slim, that he’ll get out of this. “I swear. I swear, Rogue! I’m sorry. I was stupid. I’d never do that again!”

I throw back my head and let out a loud howl of laughter. “You think I’m gonna take your word for it, you filthy piece of shit? I’m gonna make sure of it.”

Bending down, I reach down inside my boot, and pull out a knife.

“Take his pants down,” I tell Mal and Dante.

When Thorpe realizes what’s about to happen, he starts screaming again. This time, I let him. Ain’t no one out here to hear him, anyway.

This time, it’s music to my ears.

* * *

I haveto shower and change when I get home, to get the blood off. But also to cleanse my soul of the last couple of hours before I go see Rory. I haven’t laid eyes on her for days — not since she told me what happened with Thorpe. I couldn’t, until I dealt with him. But now, I can’t wait to see her beautiful face again.

I drive over to her dad’s house without calling or texting first. Everything I have to say, I need to say to her in person.

But when the front door opens, her dad’s nurse, Hans stands there, a worried expression on his face.

“Is Rory with you?” he asks. “Do you know where she is?”

“What? No! What the fuck is going on?” I demand.

Hans shakes his head. “She went out for a run. She should have been back two hours ago.”

I try to call and text her, but she doesn’t answer. “Shit, I don’t like this. You say she was on foot?”

He nods. “Yes. When she left, she said she’d be back in about an hour. I’m sorry, I should have noticed earlier. I was dealing with Richard. I lost track of time.”

“Does her dad know she’s gone?”

“No.”

“Okay, good. Let’s not worry him yet.”

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