told him anything. Garin wouldn’t do that to me. He’d take torture before he betrayed my trust.
“My brother,” I said. “He’s coming on the first.”
“Why?”
“He comes to Florida once a month…to visit my mother.”
“That’s a long trip from New Jersey. Why does he come so often?”
“They’re really close, like best friends. Mom doesn’t like to travel, so he comes to her.”
They were close, but that wasn’t the reason he came to Florida every month.
“Tell me why things will get interesting.”
The blood oozed out of the cut on my throat and dripped between my breasts. My chest was covered.
More red. More…
Breathe, Kyle.
“He’ll come to my house,” I finally said, “and when he realizes I’m not home and I haven’t been to work, he’ll come looking for me.”
As Breath laughed, the knife wiggled on my neck. “Puta, your brother isn’t going to find you. We left no trace of your kidnapping. He can dig and search every fucking crevice of North America, but you and Garin simply”—he breathed a puff of air into my ear—“vanished.” He walked around to the front of me and straddled my legs. “Do you know what my boys do to punks like your brother?”
“He’ll know I’m missing. That was all I was trying to say—”
“We gut them.” He pointed the knife to the middle of my forehead. “We start here, stabbing right through the sinuses. Not hard enough to kill, but hard enough to paralyze with pain. Then, we use a chainsaw and run it down the middle of his face and cut off his nose.” He smiled, showing me his rotted teeth. “Who needs a nose anyway, right?” He licked mine, slowly rimming and flicking each nostril. “We skip down to the legs, tearing through the muscle, shredding the tendons, snapping the bones. Do you know why we skip the chest?”
I shook my head as his erection pushed against my stomach. Death got him hard; gutting innocent victims turned him on. He was a monster—much worse than I’d thought.
And I was at his mercy.
“Because slashing through his chest would kill him right away,” Breath said, unbuttoning his pants, his dick falling through the hole of his boxers. “We want him to feel the sharpness of the blade as it rips him apart. Then, we let him scream until he dies. Once his heart finally stops beating, we slice open his chest.” He shifted on top of me, pushing his dick up toward my ribs, holding the back of my neck so that I couldn’t move. “Maybe I’ll have one of my boys go to Florida on the first and bring your brother here.” He moaned as he rubbed his dick over my stomach, pushing hard enough that my skin gave him friction. “Because I want to gut him. I want to gut anyone that tries to save you. And I want you to watch while I do it.” The way he rocked his hips and groaned reminded me of a rabid raccoon. Spit shone across his blackened smile. His eyes spread wide and his pupils dilated. “Look down, puta. I want you to see what you do to me.”
I didn’t want to look down. I knew what would happen if I did…and I knew what would happen if I didn’t. Just as I glanced at my lap, thick streams of cum shot over my stomach, reaching as high as my breasts.
He grunted my name, “Kyle, Kyle, Kyle,” with every pump of his hips. His seed smelled worse than his breath.
“You’re sick, you know that? You’re fucking sick and twisted, and I—”
“And you love it. That’s why you’re not telling me the killer’s name. You want more of my sickness. More of my cum. And I’m going to give it to you…”
“No!” My eyes caught the white glob that was slowly running down the top of my breast. I couldn’t take any more of his cum. His breath. I had to get out of here. I had to grab Garin and flee somehow. “I don’t want this—”
The knife was back. He belted me across the face with the handle. I screamed as blood squirted from my nose and sprayed across his chest. It dripped to my lips. When I opened my mouth to take a breath, I tasted the coppery flavor. And plastic.
There was always plastic.
He wiped the blood off my cheek and smeared it all over his. Then, he scooped up more and smiled as he painted it across his neck. “I’m going to cover myself