When my guy doesn’t respond, I slice through his shoelaces and rip off his shoe. Screams erupt from the other prisoner, a sign that Rev’s in his element as well.
Moments like these make me want to laugh at the idea of us pretending to run a normal business, sitting behind desks and spending hours in meeting rooms. Wearing suits and ties and strutting around like we’re normal fucking business men.
We’re nothing short of fucked up, deriving pleasure from torturing bad people.
My captive spits blood again. “Kill me. No information to share.”
I sink my blade clean through his little toe, severing it. He howls and thrashes, and I just grin back at him.
“Fucking hurts, doesn’t it? I’m going to be real with you. You’re not walking out of this building. Now, the level of pain you experience on your way out of this life? That depends on what you tell me.”
I let my gaze drift up to Rev standing across from me, hair a bit messy and blood on his favorite silver button-up shirt. He looks lit up from the inside, like Christmas came early.
My captive starts rambling in his other language, so I sever another toe. “I don’t like to repeat myself.”
Blood slithers toward my boots as the door to the interrogation room swings open. I have my gun in my hand, aimed at the intruder, before I can even think.
“Ezra.” I push out a hot breath and lower my weapon.
He fiddles with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “Sorry. You left the door open. I hadn’t seen you since Isaac said you returned.”
“Now’s not the time for this.” My protective instincts flare up, determined to hide this darkness from him. I don’t want him to fear me.
But at the same time, I do think I want him to know therealme.
Of course, Ezra doesn’t listen. He takes slow steps into the room, head tilted as he looks over the guys we’re torturing. Rev’s victim is in a much bloodier state, missing fingernails and an ear.
Ezra halts his perusal, a finger reaching out to touch the ink on theguy’s neck. “I know this guy. Alphabet Soup. He was with Gabriel when I was threatened into stealing from you.” Ezra frowns. “He kept hitting me in the head.”
The guy looks up at him, panic transforming his features as Ezra keeps his fingers on his throat.
Rage floods my system. I have my knife pressed against another toe, eager to draw this out as long as possible. This fucker will be praying to the devil to take him into the lowest ring of hell to escape me.
“You want to play, too, Ezra?” Rev asks, grinning like a maniac.
Ezra remains focused on the captive he recognized. “It’s such a strange tattoo.”
Interest piqued, I rise to my feet and move behind Ezra, letting my body press into him.
“Could be some sort of code, don’t you think?” Ezra peeks up at me, a brow cocked.
“Fucking hell,” I utter, heart lurching as I glimpse another string of numbers and letters on the other prisoner’s neck.
I call up Alaric. “Yeah, I think Ezra may have found your key. I’ll send pictures now.”
“Oh, good. I just ordered a large pizza.”
“Hey, do you not see him on the security cameras, or do you just not care?” I chastise.
Ezra stares up at me in shock, but I soften my features to let him know I’m not actually upset about his sneaking around.
“Oh, I see him,” Alaric says. “Your thief is cute.”
I growl and hang up. When I raise my phone to snap a shot of the first prisoner’s neck, he starts flailing. Gritting my teeth, I pull out my gun and fire a shot into his skull.
So much for torturing him all night.
Rev gasps. “Our hostage! No corner office for you!”
