Page 116 of Property of Bones

I set a silver tray in front of him. Lay one of the larger, blood-slick strips across it. It’s still warm.

“You’re going to eat that.”

He spits at me. “Fuck you!”

Another cut. A scream. More alcohol.

I press the blade to his cheek, just enough to sting.

“Eat it, Luis. Or I’ll start on your face. I’ll leave nothing behind your mama could recognize.”

He hesitates. Chest heaving. Mouth twitching.

Then… shaking… he nods.

“Very good,” I say. “Look, I’ll even cut it up into bite-sized pieces for you.”

I slice the strip into thin squares and, one by one, place them into his mouth. He gags on the second. Nearly vomits on the fourth. But I grip his jaw tight, force his mouth shut, and wait. His eyes roll, but eventually, he swallows.

Piece after piece disappears, his own flesh sliding down his throat.

“There you go,” I say softly. “Good boy.”

Then I lean in again, blade resting gently over his heart. I press, just enough to make the skin dimple.

“Now… let’s try this again. Who… is… your partner?”

His head lolls, sweat dripping from his brow. He’s pale now…shock settling in…but he’s not unconscious yet. Not lucky enough for that. His eyes lock on mine, and behind the pain, I see it.Fear.Real and raw.

Delicious.

“Fuck…you…” he rasps, but it’s weak. Slurred.

“Did you forget?” I smile, voice low. “That’s alright.”

I stand, dragging the tray to the side. “Maybe I’ll let Skip take over for a bit. He’s been dying to try out that new bone chisel. Real artist, that one.”

I crouch again and look him right in the eye.

“But I’ll be back, Luis. And when I return…” I drag the tip of the knife down his chest, slow and deliberate, until it rests just below his belly button. “I’ll start on your dick.”

His breath hitches.

“You’d be amazed how many layers of skin it has.”

I tap the blade against the inside of his thigh…just once. A warning. A promise.

“And I’ll keep carving…” I murmur, letting the edge whisper across the sweat-slick skin, “until youremember.”

Then I stand, clean my blade off with the rag, and walk out without another word.

Let him sit with that. Let his fear finish what the knife started.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Bones

“His name is Damián Cortez,” I say as the basement door creaks open, the footsteps behind me heavy with the arrival of the others. I don’t bother turning…just keep cleaning the blood from my hands.

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