When I hung up on Dante, I went into the dining room and inspected the scene before me.
Macbeth was spreadeagled on the dining table, his hands and feet secured by ropes tied to the table legs. And let me tellyou, it wasn’t an easy fucking job getting him up there in the first place.
He was completely naked, his body beginning to show signs of bruising in places where it wasn’t covered with tattoos. I looked at the tools I had placed on the chairs and knew there was nothing left to do other than wake the sleeping beauty.
“Rise and shine,” I sang, grabbing the jug of ice water and poured it over his face, causing him to cough and splutter.
“What the fuck!” He croaked, straining against the ropes as his head shook from side to side to avoid the water.
“Try not to speak,” I said in the same sing-song voice. “We wouldn’t want you drowning before we’ve had our fun!” I poured another jug over him, just for shits and giggles.
I grabbed the pair of underwear I found in the wash basket and shoved it into his mouth before he could say another word.
“I was planning on letting you speak, but you know Dante. He’s as protective as ever. He has men outside, so I can’t have you making too much noise,” I said, patting his cheek. “Those are your dad’s pants in your mouth, by the way. I got them from the wash basket. I’ll leave you with that thought. I’ll be right back,” I told him, heading out of the dining room and over to the window at the front of the main room. I looked outside and saw Vienna sat there on his motorbike, just like he had promised.
As though he could sense me watching him, his head turned to the side, looking straight at me. I gave him a small wave, and he returned my gesture by sticking his middle finger up at me.
I shook my head, grinning at his petty actions, and let the curtain drop from my hand as I went back to the dining room.
“Right,” I said, closing the door behind me. “We haven’t got long. So, I’m going to ask you some yes or no questions. All you have to do is nod or shake your head, understood? The more cooperative you are, the less stabby I will have to be.”
I went over to him and picked up a large knife.
“First question. Are you alone?”
He locked eyes with me and didn’t bother answering.
“I had a feeling you were going to be silent. I can practically read your thoughts. You don’t think I have this in me, do you? Is this evidence enough that I mean business?” I said, stabbing the knife into his leg. He screamed out in pain as I dragged the knife up his thigh and back down again in a small rectangleshape, peeling off the skin I had just sliced. I flicked the skin on to the floor, laughing at the way the veins in his neck protruded as he screamed into the material in his mouth.
“I’ll ask one more time. Are you alone?”
He didn’t answer me again.
Macbeth’s breath was coming out of his nose in huge puffs, nostrils flaring as tears sprang to his eyes
“Look,” I sighed, grabbing the salt. “Since you’ve aligned yourself with Alex’s brother, let me show you one thing they used to do to me to get me to do as I was told.” I poured the salt over his wound, watching his face as it turned bright red, then deathly pale, then red again as he screamed once more.
“Salt is what our nerves use to function,” I say brightly as he hissed through the pain. “When you pour salt on a wound, it artificially triggers the nerves, especially exposed ones. It forces them to send messages to the brain, asking what the fuck is going on. Your brain responds by defaulting to pain. Sometimes it can make you sick. But looks like your lovely little brain is going straight down the pain route. Final time Macbeth. Are. You. Alone?”
He nodded his head slowly.
“Good. Very good. You’re learning. Next question. Were you to blame for the explosives last night?”
I didn’t wait for his answer. I slammed the knife into his other thigh and cut off a similar sized piece of skin. His back arched in pain, and spit flew out of the sides of his mouth. I poured more salt on that wound and then repeated my question.
He nodded his head.
“Were you aware that Bee was the only one to be really injured?”
His eyes went wide, followed by a flash of dread.
“Well?”
He shook his head.
I stabbed the knife into his dick, leaving it embedded there.
His entire body thrashed on the table, his screams loud and clear despite the underwear gagging him.
