Page 143 of Lethal Torture

Is he serious?

Surely Luke doesn’t want to see me flick the psychopath switch on one of his own men?

The major’s mouth curls in contempt. “You think that bitch can break me? Not all of us are as pussy whipped as you, Macarthur.”

Luke laughs softly. “Oh, I don’tthinkshe can break you, Welch. I fucking know she can. She’s killed far harder men than you’ll ever be.” He drops his eyes pointedly to the man’s crotch.“I’m sure you’ve heard the stories,” he says softly, his face close to Welch’s. “Trust me when I say they don’t come close to describing the reality. You’d be begging for death long before she gave it to you.”

Ian Welch laughs. “Do your fucking worst, Macarthur. You and I both know I’m not leaving here alive. Whether my corpse is cockless or not is unlikely to bother me.”

Luke’s mouth curls dangerously. “Is that right,” he murmurs. His eyes flicker to me, hard and cold as I’ve ever seen them.

Is hedaringme to do something?

And I suddenly realize what’s going on.

Luke no longer cares what I do.

He knows this is coming to an end. And he knows I’m going to make him leave.

This is nothing more than a job to him now. One he needs my help to bring to a close.

The realization crashes through my body in a shattering instant, but I don’t let the faintest trace of it show on my face. Instead I just glance at Luke, answering him in the silent communication we’ve shared for months now.

Shaking the prisoner one final time, he steps back to allow me space.

You want the psychopath, Luke?

Fine.

You’ve got her.

I tug Ian’s shirt from his trousers, then run my nails lightly along the band of skin just above the waistband of his jeans. “I don’t know what they told you,” I say lightly, “but I have no intention of allowing you to leave here as a corpse. The cockless part, however?” I tilt my head speculatively to the side. “Now that’s a different thing.”

Ian’s eyes narrow slightly.

I turn to Luke. “Did you bring a knife?” I ask politely. “Or should I ask Paddy to fetch mine?”

“Ah, no need, now.” Paddy steps forward, grinning, a long blade gleaming in his hand. “Here’s one I prepared earlier.”

“You’re such a boy scout, Paddy.” I turn the blade in my hand, weighing its balance. “Is that Toledo steel?”

He winks at me. “You know your metal.” He tilts his head at Luke. “She’s quite something, your lady.”

“Your lady, is it?” Ian Welch sneers at Luke. “No wonder you’re so familiar with her torture techniques. Clearly, she’s already taken your cock.”

Oh,I think, with a sudden surge of mingled melancholy and longing,you have no idea.

But those thoughts swirl far beneath the surface, where nobody, especially Luke, can ever see them.

“You make a lot of noise, Ian,” I say flatly, keeping my eyes on his.

“No shit,” comes a thick Scots accent from behind me. “Fucker never shut up the entire time he trained us.”

“That’s a good thing.” Holding Welch’s eyes, I slice his shirt neatly from his body, then slide the tip of the blade down his torso from neck to navel, leaving a thin line of blood in my wake. “I always enjoy the screamers.”

I slip the knife under the top button of his jeans and give him my blank psychopath’s stare as the metal falls to the floor. Flicking up the tab of his zipper, I use the knife to slowly push it down, holding Ian’s eyes the entire time. When the razor-sharp edge of the blade makes a narrow slit in his blue boxer shorts, I see the first flicker of fear stir behind his contemptuous stare.

“Oh, look.” Still holding his eyes, I slip the flat of the blade beneath his flaccid, unimpressive cock. “There you are, Ian.” I flop his cock out of his pants, leaving it dangling pathetically in plain view as I step back and eye it dispassionately. “Do youknow,” I say idly, “I don’t think that tiny cock of yours is going to fill your very big mouth. Which is good, since it means you’ll still be able to talk while you’re chewing on it.”