Alexei’s hand instantly grabs hold of my arm. “I’ve sent my men for him.”
“The warehouse?” I struggle to ask through the tightness in my throat.
“Yes.” Alexei closes the laptop. “I’ll drive.”
I walk out of his mansion, my mind still reeling from what I just saw.
Flashes of Hana fill my mind.
Her smiling at me.
I climb into the passenger seat of Alexei’s armored SUV.
Her palm against my jaw.
I press a fist to my mouth.
Her lips parting.
My knee begins to jump with rage.
The red marks on her skin.
“I need a gun,” I growl.
“Taken care of,” Alexei answers as if we’re talking about the goddamn weather.
Her crying in the shower.
“And acid.”
Alexei dials a number and orders something in Russian, then he mutters, “Taken care of.”
The moment the jeep stops inside the warehouse, I’m out. I nod at Demitri, Alexei’s right-hand man, where he’s leaning against a black SUV, and say, “Thank you.” He did all the dirty work getting Ballmer here for me.
Demitri lifts his chin.
Knowing no one will hear Ballmer’s screams, I stalk to where he’s slumped on a chair. I throw everything into the punch, and it sends his obese ass sprawling over the floor.
“Brother… tsk,” Alexei shakes his head at me. “Now we have to wait for him to wake up. Come here.”
My fists open and close, hungering for more as I stalk to a table. Alexei gestures a hand over the array of knives, pliers, hammers, and anything else that can be used to torture.
I begin to reach for a sledgehammer, but again Alexei shakes his head. “Keep that for the finale. Pain before death.”
I nod. “You’re right.” My eyes lock on Alexei’s dark ones. “Show me what to do.”
His lips instantly curve as he picks up two small knives.
“Paring knives?” I ask.
“Yes,” Alexei gives me an evil grin. “Perfect for the knees.”
He hands them to me, and we walk to where his men have pulled Ballmer back onto the chair.
Alexei slaps Ballmer’s cheeks a couple of times. “Mr. Ballmer, wake up.” He keeps tapping the red cheek. “Come on. Open your eyes.” Alexei looks at one of the men. “Water.”
They throw a bucket of water over Ballmer, and it makes the old man rumble something incomprehensible.
I watch as he comes to, and then he squints at me.
“Mr. Ballmer,” Alexei leans down to catch his eyes, “do you remember me?”
Mr. Ballmer nods.
“Good,” Alexei purrs. He holds two fingers up. “How many fingers do you see?”
“Two,” Mr. Ballmer answers, sounding a little more lucid.
“We’re making progress.” Alexei turns to me. “Only the knees… for now.”
Without hesitation, I bury the first knife in Ballmer’s left knee.
When I hear the holler of pain, the demon in me drinks it in like the finest wine.
I stab the other knife into his right knee, and it earns me the beautiful sound of agony.
“Ahh… a symphony of torture,” Alexei hisses, delight darkening his eyes. “Very good,” he praises me.
Our eyes lock, and I see my reflection in Alexei.
My mentor.
My brother.
Alexei takes a deep breath as if he’s savoring Ballmer's howls and wails of pain. His accent is thick as he murmurs, “Perfect. Now we drink.”
I do a double-take. “Drink?”
As I follow Alexei to his SUV, he explains, “There’s a fine art to torture. If you get it all over within minutes, the mind races to protect itself. If you prolong it, torturing in stages, that’s when you break the mind. You tire him out. Slice by slice. Let the pain sink deep. Let it breed fear. Fear is what you want.”
Alexei takes a sip of vodka from a flask then hands it to me. “Also, it’s more fun.”
I let out a dark chuckle before I take a sip. Turning around, I watch as Ballmer sobs.
“Please.”
“I’ll do anything.”
“What do you want?”
“Name it, and it’s yours.”
Ignoring his pleas, I glance at Alexei. “I better let Hana know I won’t be back today.”
“I’ll watch over our friend,” Alexei grins.
I walk out of the warehouse and a good distance away. Stopping, I listen and not hearing anything, I pull my phone out and call Hana’s number.
“Hi,” she answers almost immediately, which tells me she hasn’t taken a nap.
“Hi, my angel. How do you feel?” I ask, my tone sweeter than the blood spilled in the warehouse.
“Better.”
“I won’t be back today. Something came up,” I inform her.
“Oh… okay. I’ll take a cab back to Trinity.”
I shake my head. “No. I’ll arrange a ride for you. Demitri will be there in thirty minutes to escort you back to the dorm.”
“Demitri?” Hana asks.
“A friend. I trust him. You’ll be safe.”
“Okay.”
Knowing she needs to hear the words, I say, “I love you, Hana. More than you’ll ever know. You’re my greatest treasure.”
I hear her breath hitch, and it makes my eyes drift closed and my body shudder with rage.
I’ll kill him for you.
“I love you,” she whispers.