“Out of all the shit that can’t make you gag, this does? Are you kidding?” I ask him, dumbfounded.
“Actually, I’m going to use you. Lead me to the guy who hired you, and if my men apprehend him, I’ll let you go. There are stipulations.”
“An-anything! I’ll do anything you want,” he says, spit dripping off his chin.
“You do this, you leave the city. You go to a different school. And I promise you, this isn’t a get out of jail free card. You’re always going to be on the run from us because the next time I see you, the next time a Ruthless King sees you, I’m going to give the order to kill you. Do you understand?”
“Wait, woah, are you fucking serious? You’re going to let him go?” Bullseye throws a dart through the air, and it punctures Daniel’s arm. “That is not the Ruthless way.”
I’ll have to agree with Bullseye. I expected more blood. I’m slightly disappointed. I didn’t even get to cut him with my scalpel like I’ve been wanting.
“He’s going to lead us to the guy. It can’t get easier than that. We need him.”
“So we ask him what the guy looks like? It’s that simple,” Bullseye argues with Reaper.
“Yeah, Bullseye? Is that easy?” They fuss back and forth, and it’s only going to be a matter of time before Bullseye pushes his luck too far. “Hey, Daniel, buddy,” Reaper calls to him as if they are best friends. “What does this guy look like? White, brown hair? Blue or brown eyes? He likes to wear a t-shirt and jeans?”
Daniel nods, slack jawed. “How did you know?”
“Because that’s nearly what every fucking frat boy, college fuck looks like!” He smacks Bullseye on the back of the head and then backs him against the wall, arm across his throat. “Keep questioning me, Bullseye. See what happens.”
“Yes, Prez,” Bullseye submits right away, even if he isn’t happy about it, and Reaper takes a step back.
“I… I know where to look. He was in the fighting ring at the casino, but he isn’t a fighter. He’s a manager,” Daniel inserts with excitement when he gives us more news. “He will be there on Friday and Saturday nights.”
“Maximo might know him.”
“We can ask. He’s coming here today.” Reaper starts to walk away, and then another smile takes over his face before turning around and squatting to be more on Daniel’s level, bypassing the puke. “You know, Daniel. Next time you want to get into some shady business, you need to look in a different place. The casino you went to? That’s owned by Maximo Moretti. How do you think he’s going to like transactions going down in his place of business that he doesn’t know about? Hmm?” Reaper chuckles and drags the knife to the middle of his chest again. “I think he’ll want payment, just like we do.”
“I’m going to die,” Daniel repeats and pisses himself again.
“You might, but I’ll do my best to keep him at bay,” Reaper says, swinging his knife back and forth. “But you see, I want my revenge too, Daniel.”
Tongue claps his hands when Reaper waves me over to come closer. I take a step into the light, and Daniel jerks his head up. “Please…” His lips widen but stay tight as he sobs. A spit bubble bursts, and snot runs down his chin. He sucks his top lip into his mouth to try to clean himself off, and I curl my lip with disgust. Snot is mucus that collects dust, pollen, and bacteria.
Fucking nasty.
“You got your scalpel, Doc?”
“Always, Prez,” I say, reaching into my back pocket and pulling out the scalpel my dad used on me. I’ve carried it with me everywhere as a reminder. I use it every surgery, every moment I need to cut flesh; I do it with the weapon my dad used against me. For the longest time it was because I wanted to prove that what I do matters, that being a doctor is a good thing, that I can cut without the intentions of hurting someone.
I’ve realized now that everyone has bad intentions, and it’s time to let mine out to play.
Reaper uncurls Daniel’s index fingers to make them point straight. “I want your trigger fingers, Daniel.”
“Wha—No, please. No. No. I said I was going to take you to him. I’m going to. I swear. I’m going to. You can trust me.” The restraints creak as tries to tug himself free, but it’s no use. The restraints are metal. They wrap around his wrist, ankles, and torso. He can only wiggle. Getting free? Impossible.
“Oh, be glad the only thing I’m taking are you trigger fingers, Daniel. If I didn’t need you, you’d be leaving out of here in pieces.” Reaper uncurls Daniel’s fingers from the chair and forces his index finger to straighten. “Doc? Want to do the honors?”
“No, no!” Daniel begs, shouting at the top of his lungs when I press the scalpel against his finger and force the sharp object through the skin and bone. The finger falls and rolls to the center of the floor where the drain is. “Oh, God! Oh my God, it’s gone.” Daniel sobs, staring at the blood dripping on the floor where his finger used to be.
Reaper holds out the other finger, and Daniel gives up on fighting and accepts his fate. He hangs his head, and I press my fist against his arm to keep him still. My vision blurs but not from regret or remorse, but adrenaline.
To take a body apart instead of putting it together has me on cloud nine. It’s therapeutic. I lay the scalpel below the knuckle and cut in one long stroke.
The finger rolls to join the other, and Daniel passes out from the pain. Blood drips from the end of my scalpel, and Reaper bends over to grab the fingers from the drain. “Bang, bang, motherfucker. That’s what you get. You shoot at us, I’ll take the finger that pulled the trigger.” He throws the digits to Tongue, and Tongue jumps back from the flying fingers. They smack him in the chest and then land on the floor.
Tongue shivers, repulsed.
“You cut out tongues but you can’t touch fingers? Are you kidding me?”
“Reaper, fingers are gross. I don’t know where those fingers have been.”
“But you know where someone’s tongue has been?” Reaper picks up the fingers from the corner and stuffs them in his pocket.
“Um, a tongue hasn’t been near as many places as fingers.”
“You make zero sense, Tongue. Zero.”
“I make plenty of sense. It’s not my fault that your sense is different than mine,” Tongue huffs, crossing his arms in defense.
Reaper rolls his eyes, and Bullseye pulls his darts out of Daniel’s leg and arm, taking a chunk of flesh with them. Tool rubs his mouth with his hand. “What do we do with him?” he asks.
“Leave him until he wakes up.” Reaper turns his wrist over to check the time. “Maximo and Natalia will be here soon, and we will break the news to him.”
I wipe the scalpel on my jeans and tuck it in my pocket. If my mom ever found out I truly became like the men she called to clean up Dad’s body, I think she might be disappointed with me, but she doesn’t understand the need I have to cut.
And not cut to save.
Cut for pain.
Like father like son, and I’m afraid he’s been living inside me for years, clawing at my soul. I never wanted to be like him, I wanted to be better.