Page 85 of Moonstruck

Zane gave him a flat stare. “I’m screaming on the inside.”

A slow, almost disturbing, smile spread across Avi’s face before he looked at Asa. “I see it,” he said mysteriously.

With that, he turned and walked towards the cabin, stopping at the door to say, “Well, are you coming?”

“You good?” Asa asked one last time.

Zane gave him an exasperated look. “Oh, my God. Stop asking me that.”

Asa grinned. “After you, Lois.”

Once inside the door, all bravado left him in one fell swoop when he saw the man who’d murdered his brother. Inside, Avi, Jericho, and Atticus had taken the man and strapped him, naked, to the large wooden table. They’d kept his glasses on. He appeared to be unconscious.

“He’s not dead, is he?” Zane asked, looking from Avi to Jericho.

Atticus crossed his arms, expression grim. “No. But I just want you to know I’m burning this table.”

Jericho rolled his eyes. “Relax, Freckles. I’ll just sand it down and it will be good as new. We don’t have to throw the whole table away because we tortured one guy on it. Besides, I’m sentimental about that table.”

Atticus flushed but said nothing.

“Wake him up,” Asa said.

Jericho pulled a small white packet from his pocket and snapped it open under Jerry’s nose. He lurched violently, glasses going askew as he realized he was unable to move more than an inch or two with the thick leather straps around his ankles, chest, and midsection. “What the fuck? What’s going on? Who are you people?”

Asa ignored the man’s sputtering, frowning at Atticus. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you didn’t do the dirty work anymore.”

Atticus looked at Zane.

“I asked him to be here,” Zane said.

Zane had meant to tell Asa that he’d stolen his burner phone and texted Atticus. But Asa had decided Zane needed a distraction. And, well, Asa was very good at distracting Zane. So good that Zane forgot to care about text chains and stolen phones.

“Hello?” Jerry yelled, like he was worried they couldn’t see or hear him.

“You did? Why?” Asa asked.

Zane glanced at Jerry, already desperately struggling against his bindings. “I don’t know how to torture somebody, but I imagine it takes some skill to not kill them too quickly, right?”

“What? Torture? Me? What are you talking about? Whatever you think I’ve done, you’ve got the wrong guy,” Jerry wailed.

“We’ll get to you in a minute,” Jericho said, waving a hand vaguely.

Asa was still looking at Zane, betrayed. “And you thoughthewas the best one for the job? He doesn’t even like torturing people.”

“I’m a fucking doctor,” Atticus said, sulkily.

Zane shrugged at Asa. “Heisa fucking doctor.”

Asa huffed a harsh breath out through his nose, then nodded. “Yeah, okay. It’s your show, Lois. You pick the cast.”

On the crude wooden counter, there was an array of sharp tools ranging from knives to surgical instruments. Zane picked up what looked like sharpened tweezers. “Jerry, did you ever play Operation as a kid?” he asked, running the dull end of the tool across his chest.

“W-What?” he sputtered.

Zane felt this strange sense of calm wash over him. “Operation. The game. Remember how you’d have the naked guy on the table and little red pinchers, and you’d have to carefully pull each of the man’s organs out. But if you touched the sides-” Zane made a sound like a buzzer, making Jerry jump. “The patient died.”

“I was excellent at that game,” Atticus said.