Page 162 of Taming Seraphine

“You slapped my mother across the face with your stinking dick, just to make the others laugh,” I yell, loud enough to hear myself over the blaring TV.

He makes a noise behind his gag and gestures at the scrap of paper.

“What?” I snap. “Are you going to tell me she’s an undeserving victim because that’s not exactly news.”

I snatch the nail gun, press its nose into the base of his dick, and squeeze the trigger.

Mike’s muffled roars mingle with the sound of the television from the bedroom next door, sounding like it’s part of the movie.

“Don’t whine.” I backhand him across the face with the power tool. “You’re the one who joked about nailing her, and now I’m nailing you.”

With the help of my pliers, I nail his penis to his thigh, without so much as touching it. Blood soaks his lap and spreads across the bathroom floor. I shoot nail after nail into his withered dick until the gun’s magazine is empty.

“How do you feel?” Leroi asks from the doorway.

I stare at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Better, but not satisfied.”

“How will you finish him?”

I glance down at the open murder bag and extract the longest screwdriver. “Mike also said something about wanting to screw Mom, so this is only fitting.”

By the time I turn back to him, his eyes are closed. No amount of threats will force him to open them, so I jam the screwdriver’s sharp edge through his eyelid. With my free hand, I hammer its handle further in until it’s sunk deep into his socket.

Blood pours down one side of his face, making pretty trails over the tape. It settles on his shirt with large splotches.

Leroi approaches me from behind and wraps his arms around my waist. His thick erection presses into the small of my back, making me shiver.

“How do you feel, now?”

I turn around in his embrace. “Compared to being chased in the woods, it’s a bit of an anti-climax.”

He nibbles my neck. “But we’ve found out two new things. One, Gabriel was forced to donate his liver in Mexico. Two, Samson has a summer house and we have its address.”

“I wish we could have kept him alive to check his facts,” I mutter.

“Sorry to have spoiled your fun. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Reaching between our bodies, I trail my fingers over his length and give him a gentle squeeze, making his breath quicken.

“I want to try the nipple clamps.”

SIXTY-THREE

LEROI

I sit on the edge of the mattress, watching Seraphine sleep. Her eyes were drooping by the time Don’s clean-up crew arrived to wrap up Mike Ferrante’s corpse, place it in their chest freezer, and carry the appliance away. I drove her to the downstairs apartment and tucked her in bed.

Moonlight shines in from the open window, making her pale blonde lashes glow. After everything that’s happened in the space of twenty-four hours and beyond, she somehow manages to look peaceful.

It was a long day for both of us, and I couldn’t stop thinking about whether it was time to find another location. I sent a text to Cesare to check on his progress with Rosalind, but I’m still waiting for him to reply.

I’m haunted by several things she revealed about her captivity and can’t shake off the instinct that I could have done more to help. Anton might have dropped a clue that I missed or Miko and I could have planned the Capello Massacre faster, so I could reach Seraphine earlier.

The thought of her trapped in that basement makes me want to do something, anything, to ease her pain. If I can’t hand her Gabriel on a platter, then maybe I can do something else.

After telling Miko to expand his searches on Capello’s liver surgery to hospitals in Mexico, it takes him no time to find the fake profile he used in his previous transplant. The name given for the live donor is Gabe Jenkins, but the blood type, date of birth, and all other details match the donor profile from four years ago.

So now we have a possible alias for Seraphine’s brother.

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