Slow Release (Ebony and Ivory Book 1) (22 page)

I watched Antonio Wayne as he worked, and it was easy to see how he got the reputation for being so sadistic. He was thoroughly enjoying what he was doing. I failed in my attempt to get Skye’s location out of Aedan, and Antonio was more than happy to take over the interrogation. Though I wasn’t shocked by his offer, I’ll admit I was surprised and a little nauseated when he sent his bodyguard to get his kit. I mean, seriously? The son of a bitch carried a torture kit with him for crying out loud!

Though Antonio directed his speech towards me, I knew he was, in actuality, talking for Aedan’s benefit. If the look on Aedan’s face was any indication, it was a good scare tactic to use. “You see, Damon, our friend here has been trained by the IRA in the art of interrogation, so he won’t be an easy one to break. Luckily, I happen to love a challenge, so this is right up my alley.”

After grabbing the duffle bag his bodyguard retrieved, I watched intently as Antonio reached inside and took out a suede knife roll. He unbuckled it slowly and rolled it out on the table, unveiling a diverse array of blades. He then reached in the bag again and grabbed bottles of what looked like salt and lemon juice. Damn, this guy did come prepared. I noted Aedan’s eyes were now darting back and forth between Antonio and me. I was certain Antonio’s calm demeanor and deliberately slow movements only added to Aedan’s anxiety.

I surprised myself at how intrigued I was with watching and listening to the sadist while he worked. The trepidation I felt earlier at just the thought of Antonio at work was all but gone. I was actually enjoying myself, seeing this man who abducted my woman tremble in fear. I listened while Antonio spoke as he worked—no, not worked—I guess played would be a more apt description.

“Many people think it takes overkill to get information, but many times, it’s the small wounds that do the job. Not only do they physically hurt the victim, but they torment him mentally as well.”

I watched as he took out a simple piece of paper and started making paper cuts on various parts of Aedan’s body. Antonio had stripped the man down to his boxers before securing him to a wooden chair, so there was hardly a part of Aedan’s body that wasn’t exposed.

Aedan started making a hissing noise as Antonio continued making the small cuts. As Antonio promised they would, the tiny cuts were clearly beginning to torment the man. I was captivated as I watched him work with precision. Having never witnessed something like this, I expected a lot more blood and more significant wounds during an interrogation. What I was seeing was the exact opposite. The quote, “It’s the little foxes that spoil the vines,” went through my mind.

Finally pleased with the numerous small cuts he inflicted on the man, Antonio reached for the salt. Some of the cuts were pink and others bled just the tiniest amount, but the stinging effect they induced was evident by the hissing noises still escaping Aedan’s mouth. I continued to watch with interest and listened as Antonio proceeded to train me in an act I never imagined I would take an interest in. Though I wasn’t sadistic in nature, I have always been intrigued with the psychology behind the mindset. I could tell that Antonio was deriving just as much pleasure from having an audience as he was from the act itself, especially an audience as rapt as I was.

I continued to watch and listen as he spit on his thumb and forefinger. He poured a small amount of salt to mix into the saliva and rubbed his fingers together to make a kind of paste.

“Many people think salt is the best stinging agent.” Aedan’s hisses turned to growls when Antonio rubbed salt into his wounds.

“While I find salt to be effective, it’s lemon juice after the application of a salt paste, that really intensifies the pain. Where. Is. This. Man’s. Woman?” Antonio calmly enunciated each word for emphasis.

“Fuck you, I’m going to kill you when I get loose.”

Antonio casually stepped to the side when the man spit at him, causing the spittle to miss its mark and ineffectually land on the concrete floor.

“While I find your outburst to be quite rude, I’m more concerned with making sure you realize you won’t be going anywhere until I allow it.”

I watched as Antonio turned Aedan’s hands so they were palm up and reached into the suede bag to retrieve two pairs of scissors. With lightening speed, he thrust one pair straight through Aedan’s hand and then repeated the action with the other hand.

Aedan was no longer hissing or growling. He’d graduated to screaming in agony, but Antonio still spoke in a calm, even-toned voice.

“As I was saying, you won’t be going anywhere until I allow it. As for your threat to kill me, you won’t have a chance to do so before your brothers kill you. They’ll be coming for you either for losing their shipment of guns or for their money. Speaking of the money, since all million and a half dollars are now mine…” He looked in my direction and continued, “it’s going to be payment for the favor Mr. D’Angelo would have owed me.”

I couldn’t resist the chance to be a smart ass as I looked at Aedan and said, “Well, thank you! How very kind of you to pay off my debt to Antonio, Aedan.”

“Fuck you, too!” he screamed out in a mixture of pain and anger.

“It won’t be me getting fucked. It will be you when your ass is put in prison,” I hissed. “Prisoners don’t like men who abuse women, and that doesn’t even begin to factor in how many enemies you’ll have because of your IRA affiliation. You know how territorial all those nasty little gangs can be. I’m certain they’ll love using you to send a message to their enemies.”

Antonio tutted in my direction, and his black eyes gleamed with pleasure as he spoke. “Whether he lives or dies is my decision, Mr. D’Angelo.”

“I’m sorry, Antonio, you’re absolutely correct. You’re the one in control.”

“I do so love control. It’s my drug of choice.” He turned his attention back to Aedan.

“Now you, I want to know where Skye is, or I’m going to inform the IRA you double crossed them,” Antonio smirked.

“I didn’t double cross them, Antonio. You double crossed me!”

“So you say…” Antonio replied as he reached for a scalpel.

Skye

I opened my eyes when I heard the familiar voice, but the bright light of the sun kept me from being able to confirm the identity of the man leaning over me.

“I’ve called for help. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“It hurts so bad… How did you find me?”

The man chuckled as he answered, “You found me when you ran out in front of my car. I almost hit you.”

I tried to focus my eyes again to confirm the voice was coming from who I thought it was. I wondered if I was delirious from the heat, loss of blood, pain, or the combination of all three. I could hear sirens in the distance as I fought to remain conscious. I had to know if this man was who I thought he was or if my mind was playing tricks on me.

I needed to see him before he had the chance to do what he had done so many years before. I needed to know if that familiar voice belonged to my father. Against my will, my body succumbed to the rest it so desperately needed.

Damon

Though I didn’t know Antonio Wayne well, I did know human nature. I could see he was battling mixed emotions as his torture session with Aedan continued. It was clear he was torn between wanting to secure Skye’s location and being able to continue playing with his prey.

I watched as he reached for a tool that resembled something from medieval times. I didn’t have to ask what it was because he continued to provide the information as if I were an eager student studying the art of interrogation.

“This is a dental gag. We’ll need it for what’s coming next.”

There wasn’t much struggle on Aedan’s part, and I figured he must be in a mild state of shock. Antonio pressed the device into his mouth, opening it wide and locking it in place. He then took the scalpel he removed from his pouch of pain and held it up, taunting his victim with it.

“If you’re not going to give me the information I want, I may as well cut your fucking tongue out.”

Aedan violently shook his head in opposition of the threat, but it didn’t stop Antonio from nicking out a chunk of his tongue. Blood-curdling screams immediately resonated throughout the room. I could hear him choking on his own blood, and for a moment, I was concerned that Antonio had gone too far. It wasn’t a reaction based on mercy. It was more that I needed to know where Skye was being held, and I was afraid Aedan would no longer be physically able to tell us.

Antonio reached into his tools and grabbed a small vial filled with a burnt orange liquid, shaking out a few drops onto the gaping wound. Aedan’s agonized screams informed me he had finally reached his limit and would be giving us the information we desired. The hot sauce on the bleeding cut, in addition to the paper cuts with the salt/lemon juice concoction, was more than he could take.