Bend Me, Daddy

His eyes widened when he saw my face fully for the first time, and I saw a flash of recognition. "I don't know anyone named Sera," he lied.

I smiled, but it didn't reach my eyes. I gave Tristan a nod.

"Get up," Tristan ordered. When he didn't move right away, he jabbed the barrel of his pistol into the side of his head. "Up," he said again. This time he got to his feet, and Tristan walked him unsteadily onto the center of the plastic. "Down." Derek fell to his knees as a terrified sob escaped his lying mouth.

Reaching inside the back of my pants, I took out my gun and laid it on top of the rock. Then I crouched down, lifted my right pant leg and slid my knife out of its holder. It took everything I had to keep my movements slow and controlled when all I really wanted to do was scream my rage into his face as I carved the skin and muscle from his bones slice by slice. But that wouldn't get any information out of him. If I allowed my emotions to come forth, if he saw how desperate I was to get her back, it would give him the power. And that wouldn't get Sera back.

"You took her from the back parking lot of the club where she works." As I talked, I strolled over to him, examining the blade of my knife and testing the sharpness on my thumb. "Does that ring any bells?"

Eyes on the weapon in my hand, he shook his head, keeping his mouth shut for once.

"You threw her into the trunk of your car and took her to a house in San Antonio, where you left her with a group of men. They waited with her until a truck full of woman who had been sex trafficked came to pick her up." Grabbing a handful of his hair, I tilted his head back and pressed the tip of my knife into the pocket beneath his left eyeball. "How about now?" I pressed until I saw a look of panic cross his features. "Do you remember anything now?" "I don't know what you're talking about," he insisted.

Much as I tried to keep my anger under control, it rose within me, screaming through my blood with renewed force. I ground my jaw together and took a breath. Slowly, and with great pleasure, I sank the knife into the bottom of his eye socket and slid it from the outside to the inner corner as he screamed and tried to jerk his head away, cutting through the inferior oblique muscle. But I didn't remove the eye. Not just yet. I pulled the knife out. "Where is Sera?" I asked him again. "I don't know!" he cried as he continued to struggle. Tristan knelt behind him, one hand holding his tied hands in place and the other arm wrapped around his neck to hold him still.

"Let me rephrase the question," I told him as I moved my knife to his other eye. "Who did you give her to?"

"I don't know their names!" He was crying fully now.

"What do you know, Derek?" I asked him. "Because we're going to stay here all day until I get the information I need." "She's just a whore." He spit out the word, his fear transforming into a false sense of boldness. "She doesn't matter."

Tightening my grip on his hair, I leaned down and put my face in his. "She's the daughter of a mafia man. And she matters to me," I told him quietly. Placing the tip of my knife back into the outer corner of his eye socket, I enjoyed the sound of his scream as I slowly and steadily cut through the remaining muscles holding it in place.

A few hours later, I had a name and a phone number, and Derek was missing both eyes, three fingers, all of his teeth, and his tiny dick. I didn't normally enjoy torturing others. Actually, I didn't feel much of anything. It was business. Nothing personal.

But this time...this time I drew it out as long as I could, and I reveled in the pain I inflicted. Downright fucking joy flowed through my veins, increasing with every twitch and scream. Every time he begged for mercy. But before he bled out, I called a friend and had him trace the name and phone number he'd given me to make sure it was legit. Sure enough, it belonged to a man on the FBI's wanted list for human trafficking. "I need everything you have on him." "Are we done?" Tristan asked.

Ending the call, I slid my phone into the front pocket of my pants. "Not quite."

"Do you want help?"

I stared down at Derek's prone body lying awkwardly on the plastic and shook my head. "No, thank you." Tristan took a few steps back and pulled out his phone to call Luca. Kneeling down on the plastic, I let the rage I'd been holding inside explode inside of me as I finished the job with my bare fists. Then Tristan handed me a boning knife from the back of the SUV.

When I was done, Tristan and I removed our bloody clothes and boots and replaced them with the clean ones we'd brought along. Then we bagged up what was left of Sera's spurned admirer along with our clothes, rolled it all up in the plastic drop cloth, and buried it in front of the large rock. While I double checked the area, Tristan called Milo, our cleaner, and-speaking in code-gave him the exact location of the body. He would take care of it for us. It was safer than driving halfway across the country to bury the body parts.

My phone rang as we were getting back into the SUV. It was my friend with the information I'd asked for, and it was enough to go on.

"Are you sure you want to come with me?" I asked Tristan.

"To Mexico?" Tristan asked.

I nodded.

"Absolutely," he told me. "Let's go get your girl."

My girl.

The words warmed my soul and sent a chill down my spine.