together, his hand warm in mine and the whole way down he works on his French, low murmured words shared between us like a guarded secret. It's only when we get to the bottom of the second set of stairs that the warmth and humor dries up from him, leaving behind the man they call the Butcher.
He’s harder, none of the man I know left in his face, but I still love this version of him. How can I not, when he protects me so fiercely?
We step into the large, sparse room, the only room in the warehouse I’ve never before stepped foot into. His workroom is cold and bare, the fans whirring softly as the cooling unit works overtime to keep this place icy cold. The walls are lined with tools and knives, bone saws and power tools. It looks like the playroom of a serial killer and, well, I guess it is.
It doesn't change a thing in my mind.
I step forward carefully and Illi murmurs to me, "Watch your step, the floors have just been washed down."
I glance down to see the little drain in the center of the floor. Handy.
It takes all of the strength in me to look up and into the faces of the men mon Monstre has tied to chairs. His palm is warm on my back even through the layers I'm wearing and I draw all the strength I need from him.
He's here, he loves me, he'd die to keep me safe.
All four of the men who were there the day my father sold me for his debts are here. The woman who showered me and took the photos isn't but I'm not worried.
I know she will meet her fate and vengeance will be served mon Monstre.
Every one of the men look at me but their eyes give nothing away. I'm sure this isn't the worst situation they've been in, the drug business isn't for the faint of heart, but I know with every fiber of my being that this is the last few moments of their lives. That all of the evil they have brought into the world, all of the death and pain, it all was leading up to this moment.
"Do you want to kill them, baby girl, or am I doing it for you? You can head upstairs if you want to, go paint or cook something."
I shake my head. "I need to be here. I need to see it with my own eyes."
Mecedo shakes his head and leans forward, the ropes straining, so he can spit on the ground at our feet. "¡Váyanse a chingar mucho a su chingada puta madre no son nadien! "
It means nothing to me, nothing at all, but Illi's face sets into a cold fury. "You'll be cleaning that up with your tongue before I kill you, cunt. If you want a quick death you'll beg Odie for forgiveness."
"¿Pedirle perdón a una babosa que ni su familia la quiso? ¡No me hagas reír!"
Illi grips my elbow and gently tugs me over to the corner where I'll have the perfect view but I should be able to stay clear of the gore once he gets to work.
"All of this over some puta pussy. Pathetic. You'll find your end soon... men who lose their head always do."
Illi chuckles under his breath, picking up a blowtorch and lighting it with practiced ease. The sound of the gaslit flame is loud in the silence of the room and all four of the captive men instantly turn to stone.
I can see the sweat on Mecedo’s brow.
A smile curves across my lips. Good. I want him terrified. I want him shaking in his boots over the death that mon Monstre, the Butcher of the Bay, is about to give him.
He deserves every second of it.
Illi slowly walks towards Mecedo, the blowtorch still throwing out that fire, and not for a second does it fail. "I've been doing this job a long fucking time. I've killed a lot of men, most of them jobs, but some were personal. I've learned all about the human body, how to break it, how to make it hurt so fucking bad that all of the truth in the world falls out."
He gets right up to Mecedo and holds the torch right up to his face, not quite burning him yet but with the flick of his wrist the pain will begin. "Did you know it takes 600 degrees to melt human fat? The skin slides