The scene touched something in me, reminding me that I shouldn’t have shelved the rumors I had heard about Khane’s deadly reputation. His rage wasn’t the kind that was in-your-face or loud. It was deliberate and meticulously expressed, the scariest type of silence that existed.
He didn’t yell at the man he was killing, didn’t even raise his voice at him. He left all the noise, all the drama, all the action up to the dying man as he gave life to his worst nightmare.
He sat the machete on an instrument table that contained an array of cutting tools, most of them bloody. Khane picked up a bone saw and placed it at the man’s gaping shoulder where I’d seen bone peeking through, and went about his task.
“I know you’re there, Desiree. Come closer. I need you to see if you recognize this man’s face before he loses the living expression you can identify.”
Was he crazy?He hadn’t even stopped sawing into the man’s shoulder as he talked. He had spoken with a normal tone, and somehow, his words overshadowed the loud screaming from the man and the sickening noise of the saw at work.
When he finally glanced up, a devious smirk rested on his face. I believe he wanted me to find him. He wanted me to see what he did to people.
My lids finally decided to fall and shut out the horrific scene, but the sound of the saw’s teeth gnawing through the man’s bone had phantom metal teeth scraping across my bone in the same area. The weird sensation had me gripping my shoulder.
I failed to shield myself from further horror when my eyes popped opened to the sight of the man’s arm hanging loosely in Khane’s hand. It teetered, rocking in his uncaring grip as blood dripped from the hacked up parts.
A few threads of skin and mangled tendons were all that was left of the connection the arm once shared with the man’s body. Khane lifted the appendage before tossing it onto the thick metal table he had the man strapped to.
The arm had landed so that the fingers appeared to be reaching for the man’s wide haunted eyes. Why hadn’t he passed out? Although Khane had tied a tourniquet over the man’s shoulder where he had taken his arm, there was blood everywhere: the floor, the instrument table, and all over Khane’s coveralls.
“Desiree.” I jumped at the sound of my name. One of my shaking hands covered my mouth as the other clutched my chest. “I need you to tell me if you know this man.” I couldn’t move. My brain was stuck and unable to process the commands I needed.
My heavy feet were dragged by my trembling legs as I edged closer to Khane and the mangled man lying on the table. I stood about ten feet away, seeing the man’s face clear under the bright lights.
Nothing about his face was familiar. However, with that much horror and pain riding his strained features and quaking body, it could have been my brother hiding under the display. Cuts consumed his body, gaping holes, deep punctures, and long gashes. There were big square patches of skin missing from parts.
Quick swallows were the only things keeping me from throwing up when the strong metallic scent of blood raced up my nose and tickled my throat.
Khane glanced at me with no readable expression on his face as the man uselessly cried and begged. He sat the bloody saw above the man’s lips, so that it was aimed to saw his mouth open, straight up his cheeks. My head shook in the negative along with the man’s, although Khane ignored us both.
“Tell me who sent you. What did you want with the women?”
“Please. We wanted the Bookkeeper and were told that one of the women could help us find him.” At those words, I knew this was about my father and not about the Vallins. I hadn’t heard from him in a week, and after he had left Mecca in charge of the Black Saints, she hadn’t heard from him either.
A few quick steps drew me closer. “Where is my father?” I questioned the man, enduring the strong scent of blood and fighting to ignore his severed arm. It wasn’t uncommon for me not to talk to my father for a week, but this man’s confession sent my mind chasing horror stories.
“Where is my father? Where is Raymond Evans?” I asked again. Khane remained silent, assessing me as I inched closer on weak and shaky legs. The horror sitting in front of me wasn’t enough to keep me from asking after my father. The man didn’t answer. He hadn’t even acknowledged me because his focus was concentrated on Khane with that saw aimed over his trembling lips.
Although my eyes were locked on the man’s desperate face, I sensed Khane’s eyes on me.
“What do you know about this, Desiree? I have been hacking into him for twenty minutes and all he keeps mouthing is something about some Bookkeeper. He and his partner were willing to go through you for this person. Who the hell is this Bookkeeper he’s looking for?”
My gaze met Khane’s. “No one knows who the Bookkeeper is. All I know is that he’s the walking equivalent of a little black book, a human safety deposit box. The Bookkeeper is like the priest my father confesses to. He knows all the secrets. If this man wants to find the Bookkeeper, it means my father could be in danger. He could be held captive as we speak.”
“How do you know about the Bookkeeper? Where is my father?” I addressed the man again.
I cast a glance at Khane. “Can you get him to tell you where my father is and how he knows about the Bookkeeper?”
Moments ago, I was ready to throw up and piss myself, but now that my father may have been in life-threatening danger, my fear had been swallowed by stress and worry.
Khane’s stringent glare caught and held mine. “You know more than you’re telling me, Desiree. Unless you want to take this man’s place, you better tell me why he would single you out to find a Bookkeeper that no one is supposed to know about.”
I swallowed. Khane was a scary man. There was no question about that, and I was just now realizing how deeply horrifying he could be. Would he strip me down and torture me for information? Yes. Yes, I believe he would, I decided.
“No one is supposed to even know about the Bookkeeper. If something happened to my father, the Bookkeeper would step in and keep the business going and appoint the next person to take over. If this man knows about the Bookkeeper, it means someone may have tortured my father for the information.”
I glanced at Khane. “My father has his faults, but do you think I would have subjected myself to an arranged marriage I don’t want if I didn’t love him? I think he is in trouble.”
Khane squinted, studying me over the man’s squirming body and pained whimpers. When he was done scrutinizing me, he sat the teeth of the bloody blade back against the man’s mouth. The man spat his words around the blade. “I don’t know where Raymond Evans is. He owed the house over five-hundred thousand. The only thing that saved his life was disclosing the knowledge of his Bookkeeper that could get us the money. When he was left alone, he found a way to escape the holding cell we had him in.”