Page 72 of Psycho
Part of Lucas wanted August to do it, to just end it then and there. But they still had Cricket. Those maniacs had Cricket. He moved on autopilot, following August’s instructions to the letter. Once Kohn’s wrists were secured behind his back, August sat him up using a handful of his hair. Lucas got a small thrill when the man screamed in pain.
“You don’t know how bad you just fucked up. If they don’t hear from me in the next five hours, they’re just going to start the show without me. Let me go and I’ll tell you where to pick up the pieces of your little friend when we’re done with her. Hell, if you find me a replacement, maybe I’ll even leave her in one piece.”
“August…” Lucas said, not even sure what he wanted to say.
August’s face went blank. It was like a switch had flipped, all of August’s humanity disappearing in a blink. The hollowness in his eyes, the complete lack of emotion on his face, gave even Kohn pause when August got in his face.
“Do you think I’ll need five hours to break you?” he asked.
Lucas couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face. For the first time since Kohn had entered Lucas’s life, the man looked truly horrified. Like he’d looked into August’s eyes and saw the bleak fate that awaited him.
“I’m going to get him in the car. Call Noah and my father and let them know what’s happened.”
Lucas’s gaze darted to Kohn. “Shouldn’t we be worried about using names in front of him?”
“He won’t live long enough for it to matter.” He slapped Kohn’s face. “But how much pain’s involved…that’s up to him.”
Lucas picked up the phone and began making calls.
“Why do I even bother to say things like ‘no mistakes’?” Thomas asked over the speaker of August’s truck, then sighed. “It’s like you boys take it as a personal challenge. A way to spite me. Have I not given you everything?”
August rolled his eyes. “You’re being very dramatic, Dad. Did Archer get you drunk again?”
“He did not. I’m just tired of cleaning up after you boys for the last six months. You’re all getting sloppy. Distracted. You would never have made these kinds of mistakes last year.”
“Atticus makes mistakes monthly, yet you still let him be your favorite,” August reminded, uncertain as to the reason for his father’s suddenly poor mood. “Did Aiden call you? You always get grumpy when Aiden calls.”
“I told you that nobody does anything without my say so. Yet, somehow, here we are with you driving down the freeway with a federal agent hog-tied in your backseat in broad daylight.”
Lucas gazed at August with wide eyes, clearly unnerved by Thomas’s irritation. August knew it was just his father’s way of processing things that didn’t go the way he’d wanted. “He had a gun pointed at Lucas. What should I have done? Just let him shoot him?”
“It’s too late for should haves. But what you should have done is called me before you barged in there and cattle prodded a federal agent.”
August sighed. “As you said, it’s too late for should haves. We’re at the old denim factory. I’m probably going to need help with the clean-up once I get the information I need.”
Lucas kept glancing over his shoulder to where Kohn was out cold in the back.
They sat parked between two cement buildings. The old factory was good for privacy. It was an abandoned sixty-thousand square foot space surrounded by a grouping of smaller, equally empty, buildings. The only people they ever had to contend with were the occasional vagrants and they would run at the first sign of trouble.
Thomas muttered something under his breath before saying, “Text me when it’s done and I’ll send in reinforcements.”
Once they dragged Kohn inside, August rigged a chain over a metal beam, securing it around the solid steel cuffs before Lucas helped him truss Kohn upwards, stopping only when his toes barely scraped the ground. August cut Kohn’s clothing free, kicking the fabric out of the way. Kohn was sweating profusely, and he reeked of urine and fear. He was conscious but pretending he wasn’t. August let him maintain his illusion for just a bit longer.
Lucas had retreated to the side of the room, leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. He wasn’t sure if Lucas could handle what was about to happen, but knowing Cricket’s life hung in the balance would likely keep him from completely caving to Kohn’s inevitable mental breakdown. August opened the duffel bag he kept hidden beneath the panel in his Mercedes. He unrolled his knives, smiling when Kohn scoffed as if they were inferior to the grotesque instruments he’d fashioned himself.
August didn’t need to rip off body parts to break Kohn, but he would if he had to. He was just getting started. He took a set of small earbuds and shoved them deep into Kohn’s ears. Once the speakers connected, he keyed up his death metal playlist and turned it on, cranking the volume up as high as it would go, watching Kohn’s face contort as the music assaulted him from the inside out.
“Fuck you,” Kohn spit, fighting to stand on his toes, trying to take the weight off his shoulder joints. “You think some loud music is gonna break me?” he screamed. “Fucking amateur.”
August snatched a knife from the display, crossing the room. Lucas gasped as he grabbed the man’s nipple, pulling it away from his body before slicing it clean off, tossing it to the floor as Kohn screamed. August flinched at the noise.
Lucas crossed the room and pulled something from his pocket. August’s air pods. “I saw them in the center console and figured you could use them. I know the screaming bothers you.”
August wrapped his arms around Lucas, dragging him in for a deep kiss, swallowing his cry of surprise. Kohn grunted in disgust.
“It’s just headphones,” Lucas said.
August shook his head. “It’s not just headphones. I don’t know what love feels like, but I imagine it’s like the feeling I’m having right now.”
