Page 177 of Unexpected Heroine

Kadin shakes his head frantically, struggling for air. “No, she’s not.”

I tilt my head, feigning confusion. “So you do know how she got the burns?”

He nods.

I lift my brows, silently encouraging him to confess.

Taking another puff of the cigarette, Aaron moves into position on the opposite side of our captive. “Please enlighten us, friend. How did she get those burns?”

With Skidmark’s terrified eyes tracking Aaron’s methodical movements, he sniffles out an answer. “I was ordered to make it extra painful for her. I didn’t wanna do it. But these guys don’t give you a choice. I tried to talk them out of it. I even suggested we let her go.”

“Let her go? Bull fucking shit,” Jonesy scoffs, choking the shit head again. “Do we look stupid to you?”

While gulping for oxygen in vain, Skidmark looks at me with desperate eyes. Jonesy lets up on his choke hold just enough that Kadin can eke out, “Fuck man. Sorry. Didn’t want to do it. Made. Me.”

Asshole.

Through gritted teeth, I hiss out, “You didn’t want to do it? What about what she wanted?”

As soon as the big guy releases his hold on the fucker’s neck, I’m unable to contain my ire. Rearing back, I punch him square in the nose, relishing the sound of the crack.

Rage pulses through my body, beckoning me to hit him again and again. To make him feel even a fraction of what he did to her.

But I don’t.

Clenching my hands into fists, I fight the compulsion to batter him to death. I need to get the intel out of him first. He’s no good to us if he’s dead.

“I had to,” he whines, tears filling his pathetic eyes. “I’m sorry about your girl. I had to. I swear.”

Exhaling my frustration through my nose, I arch a brow at Aaron. “I wonder what dear sweet abuelita would suggest we do with his confession.”

“This.” Without hesitating, Aaron jabs the lit end of the cigarette into the back of Kadin’s upper arm, searing a nice deep circle into his pasty flesh.

His pained screams are a sweet symphony.

Aaron removes the cigarette from Skidmark’s arm once it’s burned out.

“Turn him around. Other arm.” I light another cigarette from the pack, puffing enough to get a good burn going but not inhaling because that shit is fucking disgusting. “Lettie had two burns.”

“No, no,” Kadin cries, struggling in vain.

“An eye for an eye,” Aaron says while rolling him slightly.

“No!” he wails before Jonesy tightens his grip on his throat, cutting off his screams.

Once he has burns to match the ones he gave my sugar bear, it’s time to get answers. He’s primed.

“Playtime is over,” I announce, then point toward a post a few feet away. “Sit him up. Back against the post.”

While they’re positioning him, I remove a few things from my bag. Let’s call them persuasive items.

I approach him slowly, a predator stalking his prey. Kneeling in front of him, I open the case and start setting out the implements. Screwdriver, pliers, scissors, clamps, pokers, chisels, and so much more. All lined up, side by side like little soldiers, ready to go to war on my behalf.

In the service, I didn’t have to get my hands dirty in this way too often. Once the Army recognized how good I was behind a keyboard, my talents were best utilized there. However, the early days on missions with Deltas and SEALs, even some joint ops with the CIA, allowed me to channel a monster like my father. Someone who could hurt a bound man without flinching. When enhanced interrogation techniques were needed to achieve our goals, I could rise to the challenge. Despite never enjoying it, my ability to shut down my humanity made it passable.

Tonight?

I just might enjoy this.

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