him.
Least of all Ringmaster. “Why, Simon?” Crack.
He hissed in pain. “Why not?”
Crack. He rested his forehead against the wood of the post. He could smell his own blood, and he could taste a bit of bile in the back of his throat. He was not looking forward to retching up the remains of taco night.
“Even you have more sense than that. Why?” Crack.
“Do you know what happens when someone dies? They void their bowels. Have you ever made seventeen people shit themselves?” He snickered. “Seventeen and a half if you count both halves of the Twins. Well, I now can say that I have. What more of a reason do I need?” Crack.
“Because in a hundred and thirty years, and with all the stupid things you’ve done, you have never murdered everyone at once. Why? Where’s Cora?”
“Two perfectly un”—Crack—“related questions.”
“Liar. Where is she?” Crack.
That blow was harder than the others. It made him see spots. For a moment, his knees went out, and he slumped against the pole. The wood was now slick and covered with his sweat and blood. His weight fell onto his wrists, the cords digging painfully into his skin. But that was the least of his concerns. “Don’t know.”
“Why would she be with Mr. Harrow?” Crack.
“Don’t know!” He snarled and pushed himself back to his feet. He wouldn’t be defeated by this. It wasn’t the first time Ringmaster had flayed off his skin. It wouldn’t be the last. “That’s what I was trying to find out when you so rudely interrupted me.”
“Aaron. Give me your knife.”
When the blade flicked open, Simon shut his eyes and waited. He didn’t have to wait long before he felt the point dig into his flesh. Ringmaster drew a line down his spine. But it wasn’t until he slipped the point of the blade beneath his skin and began to peel it away from the muscle that Simon broke one part of his vow.
He began to scream.
“Stop.”
He thought for a moment he had hallucinated the voice. He thought he had been the one to say it, and to cover for his own debasement, imagined that she had said it instead.
But when her voice came again, he knew it was real.
“Stop now, Ringmaster.”
The knife left his flesh. Simon took in a wavering breath. “Hello, Cora dear. Thank you. Stellar timing. I’ve been skinned alive before. Can’t say as I was looking forward to experiencing it again.”
He wished he could see. But he also thought he might pass out or throw up. Or pass out and throw up, not necessarily in that order. He was fine staying as he was for a moment, leaning on the post for support.
“Where have you been, Cora?” Ringmaster demanded. “Did you speak to Mr. Harrow?”
“No. I didn’t speak to Mr. Harrow. I went for a walk in the woods. After seeing what Simon did, I needed some space. Now, stop this.”
“Simon murdered everyone, Cora. Everyone. He needs to suffer for that.”
“Why? To make you feel better? Or because you think it’ll teach him a lesson? If it’s the former, fine—you can be a sadistic, vindictive asshole all you want. If it’s the latter, you’re an idiot. Simon doesn’t feel bad about a single goddamn thing he does. Ever. That’s who he is.”
“Hear, hear.” Simon tried to smile over his shoulder, but he couldn’t quite manage. It hurt to turn his head too much. “She has a fantastic point.”
“Shut up, Simon.” Cora sounded angry. But why? He’d done exactly what she had asked him to do. Sure, he might have gone a little far with it, but she couldn’t possibly be surprised.
He sighed but obeyed.
“Which is it, Ringmaster? Are you torturing him to make yourself feel better? Or do you think it’s actually going to make him think twice next time?” Cora was walking toward him, her voice getting closer. “It looks like you’ve already messed him up enough. How long have you been torturing him?”
“A while,” Aaron chimed in. “You were in the woods for six hours.”
“I didn’t bring a watch. Sorry.” Cora moved into Simon’s line of sight and reached up to start undoing the ropes that bound his wrists to the post and over his head. “I’m taking him back to his boxcar now. He’s paid your price.”
“Are you lying to me, Cora?” Ringmaster walked into Simon’s field of view as well, pulling Cora away from the task of untying him. “Where were you? Where were you really?”
“I was enjoying nature. I can vow to