It's been five days, and I've already killed nine of Joe's guys. Not one of them has given me what I want. Each time I put a bullet in one of their heads, I feel my control slipping. I haven't slept in days, and as I stare at the road, my vision begins to blur. I drift off for a second, coming back to when the tires bump over the ridges of the shoulder.
"Shit, let me drive would you," Marney groans. "I don't want to die in a car crash."
I pull over to the side of the road, and we trade seats. Moments after he pulls back onto the highway, I fall asleep.
"You can't save her," he laughs. "You're too late."
I can't see anything. I'm forced into a room where Tor is lying in a pool of blood. She's completely naked¸ bruises and cuts all over her. My heart drops into the pit of my stomach, and I fall to my knees in front of her.
"Don't worry, she was thoroughly used before I killed her," Joe says just before he places the cool metal of the gun against my temple. I close my eyes, waiting for the gun to go off. I want it to. I deserve this because I failed her. I feel the pressure lift away from my temple, and Joe makes his way around, squatting in front of me.
His lips curl up into a sadistic grin. "I wouldn't kill you if my life depended on it because knowing I did this right here to you," he points at her body, "is far more satisfying."
I startle awake, my skin damp with sweat. The sun is starting to go down, and Marney's still driving. He glances over at me and points down to the floorboard. "You missed a call."
I pick the phone up, and there's a voicemail. My hand trembles as I press the phone to my ear and listen.
The first thing I hear is Joe snickering. "Your little brother wanted so badly to be the hero, but he's more stupid than I thought." My stomach flips and turns, adrenaline scorching through my jugular. I sling the phone onto the floor. How the hell did he get Caleb? I slam my fists over the glove box, my heart pounding. "Joe has fucking Caleb!" I growl through clenched teeth.
There's a tense moment of silence. Marney wipes his hand over his mouth and nods, as he floors the accelerator. "We gotta make the next one talk, Jude. You're gonna have to hold your shit together long enough to make him talk."
An hour later, we're walking up to the front of a two-story, brick house with rifles held by our sides. The irrigation system unexpectedly cuts on, and Marney jumps. "Shit," he mumbles and inhales.
The flood light flickers on as we climb the stairs. When we reach the top, Marney presses his back to the side wall and cocks the gun. I can hear the muffled noise of a television. I ring the doorbell and wait. A shadow appears behind the frosted glass door, attempting to peer out, and, well, they are just taking too damn long. I quickly raise the gun, aim at the person's shoulder and shoot through the glass. The glass shatters and falls in sheets to the ground as the person on the other side collapses.
"Well, hell, Jude," Marney groans, shaking his head as he reaches through the broken glass and unlocks the door. "Just got ants in your pants, don't ya, boy?"
Kicking the door the rest of the way in, I shout, "I'm in a fucking hurry, Marney. I don't have time to wait around for shit." Glass crunches beneath my boots as I make my way inside.
The guy leans against the railing to the stairwell; his hand clutched at his shoulder. There's a bright red patch soaking through his shirt. A pistol lays in his lap, and he's attempting to load it with one hand. I lean over and snatch it from him. His gaze trails over my body, and when it lands on my eyes, his face quickly washes white.
I smirk at him. "Yeah, I'd be afraid if I were you too," I say, tucking his pistol into the waist of my jeans. "You gonna make this easy, or am I going to have to torture you?" He swallows and opens his mouth, but no words come out. "Fucking torture it is..." I say as I jerk him to his feet. My mind floods with images of what Joe is doing to Tor and Caleb. Those thoughts force my jaw to clench, and I bring his face inches from mine, staring coldly at him. "Where the fuck is Joe Campbell?"
"I don't know."
"I don't like being lied to," I say as I shove him away from me. He falls back against the stairs. I nod and exhale as my gaze drifts over to the hand he's holding over the bullet hole. I snatch his wrist and throw his hand from his shoulder. Without hesitation, I jam my finger into the ripped flesh, digging around in the warm wound. The man screams and jerks in pain. I know this shit hurts like a motherfucker. I glare at him as I shove my finger deeper into the hole, watching him squirm. I push him to the floor. "Where?" I shout.
He doesn't say a damn word; he's just sitting in the floor panting through the pain.
I motion at Marney. "Tie him up."
Marney mumbles to himself as he unwinds the rope that's looped around his shoulder. He crosses the man's arms behind his back, quickly binding his wrists together. I glance around the house and spot a dying fire in the fireplace, and I motion toward the hearth. "Just set him over there."
I walk past them and grab the iron poker from the tool rack. Marney's just sat him in a chair, and I take a running start, bringing the poker back behind my head like a baseball bat and swinging. The heavy metal meets his knees with a loud crack. The man screeches in pain and buckles over. He sounds like a wild animal caught in a bear trap.
"Now," I wipe the sweat from my forehead, cocking a brow as I point the end of the poker at him, "You fucking tell me where he is."
I don't even know if he heard me over his continued howling. I place my hand on the handle of my gun, my finger twitching over the trigger. I'd just as soon put a bullet in his skull than deal with this shit, but I can't. I close my eyes, reminding myself of why I need to keep it together. Caleb, he has Caleb and Tor... My blood boils, my pulse accelerates, and the last piece of sanity I have been clinging to is consumed by the hate festering inside me.
"I will kill every last piece of shit that tries to stand between he and I. I'll go after your fucking family if I have to."
His bloodshot eyes rise to meet mine.
"Tell me!" I yell as every muscle in my body tightens, but he remains silent. He’s trained not to give out information, but damn it, I will get what I want from him. Every-fucking-one has a breaking point, and I will find his.
I place the end of the poker into the dimming flames, watching as the pointed tip brightens to a glowing red. I pull it from the fire and twist it, sadistically staring at the burning tip as I slowly push it in his face. His gaze trains on the end of the poker, his brow beading with sweat as he tries to scoot away from me.
"Hold him still!" I order Marney, and he grabs him by the shoulders.
Marney leans in by his ear. "He's a sick fuck. I promise the devil is kinder than this one. Wanna answer him?"
Each moment he stalls is a moment he takes from me, from Tor and Caleb. I ram the sharp, hot end into his eye. The sound of singing flesh sizzles through the air. The thick aroma of burning skin creeps into my nostrils; I can practically taste the charred flesh in the back of my throat. I never have in my life heard cries and howls like this man is letting out. I yank the poker back and toss it to the floor. His mutilated eye dangles from the optic nerve, swinging across his face, and, I won't lie, that shit makes my stomach turn.
"Tell me..." I trail off because the fucker is screaming so loud I can barely hear my own fucking voice. I grab him by the throat and squeeze. "Shut the fuck up!" His screams become garbled as I choke him. He's thrashing around, and now I'm just tired of it. "I am your own fucking personal apocalypse right now." My fist lands against his face, the force of the blow causing the chair to fall over. I smack him again. His face is covered in blood and so is my fist.
"You're gonna kill me," he groans. I can see him straining, trying to resist the urge to cry from the pain. "Even if I tell you where he is, you won't find Joe unless he wants you to," he says through gritted teeth.
"Oh, I will find him. I can assure you of that." I grab his bound wrists and drag him toward the fireplace. I slam him face down onto the hearth and kick the screen away from the opening. Holding him by his wrists, I press my weight into his back and lean over him. I bring my face next to his and arch a brow, grinning as I say, "You have no idea what I'm capable of."
I grab the knife from my back pocket and flip out the blade, cutting the rope. I use my knee to pin down one of his arms as I take the other and shove it into the fireplace. There he goes with his high-pitch wailing again. He bucks beneath me trying to free himself.
"Where?" I ask.
He drags in several deep breaths. "Fuck..." he pants. “It hurts!"
I glare at the back of his head. He is standing in my way of finding them. I yank his blackened hand out from the fire, watching the smoke rising from it. My fist clenches around the knife still in my hand. I press the blade to his cheek and slice down the side of his face, down to his shoulder. With one swift movement, I flip him over and slice over his stomach. His back arches from the pain.
"Fuck you!" I shout so loud my voice goes hoarse. I'm swatting at him like a maniac, the blade ripping open his skin with each movement. "You fucking tell me where he is!"
"Jude," Marney attempts to get my attention.
"Where is she?" I straddle him. "Tell me!" I ram his head against the brick hearth. "Tell me where she is!"
Blood is everywhere and the man's no longer fighting me. I crush his windpipe with my hands, then release him. "Tell me, and I won't make you suffer any longer. If you don't tell me, I will fucking beat you all night if I need to." I raise my fist and punch him in the jaw. One of his teeth flies out of his mouth, bouncing across the floor.
"One...." he pauses to whimper from the pain, and I halt in my assault. “One fifty-five, highway seventy-five," he chokes through his blood.
Marney types the address into his phone. His eyes narrow on the screen before lifting to mine. "It's an old furniture factory?"
The man groans and nods. I take the knife and place it on his throat. "Thank you," I whisper in his ear as I slowly slice his throat open. Blood pours from the wound, splashing onto the brick.
Marney stares at me briefly before glancing around the room. He rubs over his stubble. "What a fucking mess," he exhales. His gaze drifts down to my blood-soaked jeans as he shakes his head. "You gotta get control of yourself."
I'm drenched in blood, but I don't fucking care. "Come on," I mumble in a slight daze, as I stand. My head spins violently, and I feel like collapsing onto the floor, but instead, I lean my forearm against the wall, resting my head against it. I focus my eyes on the white carpet, watching the red droplets fall from my elbow and splash onto the floor. There is no controlling this wrath.