“They already had him. Getting him back wasn’t going to happen without exposing myself too.”
Ken grunts.
“So, since they had me, you figured why not get your rocks off?” He steps forward and jams the prod into her side, sending jolts through her body. She cries out, and her body shakes before he releases her.
“I’m…I didn’t think…fuck.”
“Why me? What the fuck did I do to you that you wanted that shit to happen to me?” Ken asks, the prod only an inch away from her tit. He wraps his other hand around her throat and squeezes until her cheeks ripen to a deep red. “Answer me.” He yanks his hand away. A bright imprint of his fingers lingers on her skin.
“George Romero.” She gasps for air.
He releases her and steps back, his gaze searching hers.
“Because of his fucking daughter?” He barks.
“I didn’t know why. He just gave me the order.”
“You work with him,” I cut in, walking around the basement. “You two play down here?”
I turn to glare at Todd. There’s tape over his mouth, his arms and legs are bound to the chair. Blood covers his pants from the knees down. He’s awake, but there’s been a lot of blood loss even with Ken’s patch job.
“The three of you?” I point my knife at him. “Who’s Dragonmate? You or the other guy?”
Todd shakes his head in a lame attempt to answer.
“Dolly,” Ken says my name softly, calling me back to him to stay on task. Todd has a purpose. I can’t end him yet.
“If there’s a third…” I try to explain my thinking, but he shakes his head at me. I sigh. There’s no dealing with him when he gets bossy.
“Is Todd or Romero Dragonmate?” Ken asks Cathy.
“Todd doesn’t—he’s not involved, not really. He just helped with the tech shit for me,” Cathy admits. “He’s—”
“You’re boytoy,” I fill in for her. “The little pussy who does what you ask in hopes of getting his cock in your cunt.”
“Dolly.” Ken’s voice hardens.
“Fine.” I step behind him. He can have his turn with her, but then I’m taking over.
“Romero wanted me handed over, and Todd helped you cover the site. He led the taskforce away from it, didn’t he? He was able to track Dolly for Hire, but never handed over the information.”
Cathy shakes her head, her lips trembling too hard for her to speak. She’s running out of information to give us, and that means the real fun is about to start.
“How’d you get us put on the taskforce? Richards hates you—or is that a bullshit lie too?” Ken sparks the prod and jabs her tit with it. She jumps in her binds, putting pressure on her feet, and releases a blood-curdling scream. Another one for my memory banks. Maybe hers will erase my own.
“Romero.”
“What about Pierce?” Ken asks.
She’s sobbing.
“Cathy. Pierce. Does he play a role?” Ken growls, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back.
Her eyes are swollen from all the crying. Tears have mingled with her blood. If she wasn’t such a cunt, she might be pretty.
“I don’t know. I just did what Romero said to do. You don’t understand what kind of people are involved in this. Powerful people, Brian. I couldn’t go against him. He would have destroyed me. I had no choice.” Her whiny voice is nothing more than a pathetic attempt to gain his sympathy.
“You’re a victim?” I seethe. Ken moves over so I can get closer to her. Grabbing the prod from him, I flip up the setting. I want it on high. I want her to feel every bit of the currents racing through her body before I finish her off.
“No… I didn’t…please.” Cathy begs, her wide eyes fixated on the prod in my hand.
“I’m tired of her. Are we done?” I ask Ken, but don’t look at him.
“I think I have everything I need,” he says softly. “Very disappointing.” He tsks, stepping back. “Dolly, you can go ahead.”
Cathy’s mouth opens, another plea on her tongue that never gets out. I jam the prod into her belly, letting the electric heat run through her entire body until she’s shaking from the pain. Only then do I pull it back.
“You enjoyed watching me bleed.” I prick her torso with my knife. Not deep enough to kill her, just enough to see the trickling of her blood down her chest.
“You asked for Ken to be hurt.” I charge up the prod again and press it to her cunt. Her scream deafens my left ear.
“End it,” Ken commands me.
I look over my shoulder at him. His steady gaze on me, he gives me a small nod. I’ve had my fun, but our work isn’t finished. I can’t play all night.
“Please,” Cathy begs again, though I’m not sure she’s pleading to be let go.
I drop the prod to the floor and switch my knife to my right hand. I press her back against the cross, and she raises her chin, squaring off with me, fear dancing in her eyes.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Cathy.” I press a soft kiss to her cheek. “You’re safe here. You know what’s going to happen.” I hold fast to her chest, keeping her body as elongated as I can. “You’re going to die.”
A sob breaks loose from her chest.
“What was scary was all those days living in that cell, not knowing if I would die, if I would live, if I would be tortured or raped or hurt. Would I eat? Would I get to sleep? Would I be too drugged to be able to do anything to stop them? Would I get to clean myself? That is real fear.”
Cathy’s eyelids flutter along with her trembling lips.
“Dying isn’t scary.” I lean close to her ear. “But it is inevitable.”
Sinking my knife into the lowest part of her belly, I rip it upward, slicing her open before I remove it. Pulling back, I release her and let her stomach open wide, spilling the contents onto the floor.
Her scream loses power as she slumps forward on the cross. Blood drips from the wound. She gasps. Another sound, a gurgle, and then, nothing. Held up only by the binds on her arms to the cross, she hangs limp.
“Dolly.”
I drag my gaze away from the mess on the floor.
“It’s easier to breathe now, isn’t it?” I ask Ken.
“It is.” He nods, holds out his hand for me, and pulls me to his chest. I’m covered in her blood and ruining his clothes, but he hugs me tight. “You did good.”
“What about him?” I ask, not wanting to leave his embrace, but we still have to deal with Todd.
“He’s going to help us,” he says, pressing his lips against my head. “Then he’s going to die.”
Twenty-Six
KENDOLL
Todd’s sniffling grates on my nerves, but he hasn’t taken his fingers off the keyboard, so I don’t get on his ass about it.
Yet.
I have him set up at Cathy’s kitchen table with the laptop I swiped from the playhouse and Cathy’s lined up beside it.
“Think he’ll be able to help?” Dolly asks, sipping a glass of water.
“He better,” I say loud enough for him to hear me. I think he’s come to terms with what’s going to happen when he’s done working, but the carrot keeping him on task is he won’t suffer.