Page 39 of Threads That Bind Us
The words sting a little, but I compartmentalize them like I do everything else. My concern for my mother’s health. The sound of the refrigerator humming in the background. My lust for Gwen. Every stimulus, internal and external, falls neatly into a file, tucked away to be reopened after I leave this house.
We make our way past two locked doors and a railless staircase, and I keep close track of Gwen behind me as I open the door.
Kayden is very much awake. The room is soundproof, but as soon as I crack the door, his muffled screams fillthe space. He’s sweating, but he hasn’t pissed himself, which is a minor miracle.
I can feel Gwen like a tether is attached between us. I don’t turn to watch her, but I know she goes to stand at the table like I told her. Kayden’s eyes flicker back and forth between us.
“Good evening, Kayden,” I say calmly, rolling up the sleeves of my shirt. “I hope your flight was restful.”
He starts screaming again, and I doubt the words would be clear even without the gag. His fear is like a noxious gas, spreading through the room and permeating my nervous system. I hate the metaphor of predator and prey, but it’s fitting, the way my subconscious starts cataloging his weaknesses.
It’s unlikely he’s dedicated enough to Konstantin’s team that anything more than a little roughing up will be necessary. But I have a student today.
“I’m sure you won’t mind,” I say over his screaming, nodding my head back to Gwen without looking at her. I don’t know why, but I can’t. “We’re using tonight as a learning opportunity for a friend. You’re amenable to that, aren’t you?”
Spit is dripping down his chin, his muscles bulging against the restraints holding him to the chair bolted to the floor. He has his eyes locked on Gwen, and his noises turn pleading, like he’s begging for her to release him. My blood simmers under my skin.
“See, I knew you’d be understanding,” I say as I reach out and grab his chin, forcing him to look at me. “I hear we have a lot to talk about. I do hope you’ll be forthcoming.”
Terror still pulses through him, but anger, too. I’ve found that people don’t just go through the stages of grief when someone they care for dies, but when they know their life is about to end as well. He’s not yet accepted his own impending demise, and that works in my favor. He’ll offer more in exchange for a life he can no longer bargainwith.
I hold his chin through his thrashing, his attempts to break free, but Zane has perfected this particular art. I wouldn’t have brought Gwen down here if I thought for a moment our victim could get loose from his restraints.
“Now, I’m going to take out this unseemly gag, and we’re going to talk a little bit about what you told Konstantin’s men,” I say calmly, wiping his spit from my fingers onto the side of his face. He doesn’t look shocked—it’s impossible that he doesn’t know who I am and why he’s here—but his expression hardens a bit. “If you’re forthcoming, I’m sure this will be a pleasant exchange.”
I hear Gwen shift behind me, but I still can’t force myself to look at her. Am I afraid of what I’ll see in her eyes, or what she’ll see in mine?
I reach behind Kayden’s head and untie the cloth gag, and immediately he’s yelling and thrashing again. I roll my eyes, tossing the fabric into the corner of the room and stepping away to let him wear himself out. He’s screaming for help, for me to fuck off, that hedidn’t fucking do anything, his voice quickly growing strained.
“It’s instinctual for them to rebel like this, especially if they haven’t received any training to the contrary.” I raise my voice so Gwen can hear me without taking my eyes off Kayden. I hear her shift again, but don’t feel her come any closer. “Generally, they wear themselves out in a few minutes, but the body will sometimes produce intermittent bursts of adrenaline throughout the process, which is something to keep in mind if you ever decide to loosen a victim’s restraints.”
She only hums in response, but something about the sound of her voice settles in my mind. It doesn’t draw me out of the moment, but acts like a window into a world outside this room. I’ve killed with others before—family members, Zane, theoccasional external partner or extended Syndicate member—but I’ve never experienced this sensation.
I place the question ofwhyin another little compartment and file it away, even if I continue to bask in the small comfort I’ve found with her here.
As Kayden’s struggling becomes less enthusiastic, I move so I’m directly in front of him and squat down so we’re eye level with each other.
“Okay, Kayden. Why don’t we start easy? Who from Konstantin’s team approached you in Belarus?” I ask, my tone almost patronizing.
“Man, go fuck yourself,” he spits, breathing heavily from exerting himself with useless struggling. I roll my eyes.
“That is not what I’d call forthcoming,” I say, patting him on the side of the face firmly. He flinches away at the touch, and I can’t help but laugh. “Let’s try that one more time, yes? Who approached you?”
“I’m not telling you jack fucking shit,” he sneers.
Cocking my head at him, I track his expression, his breathing, the set of his jaw. I realize he’s not refusing because of his dedication to Konstantin, but because ofpride. This exchange has bruised his ego.
What a fucking idiot. I crack my neck again and step back again.
“Unless you’re working with someone trained to withstand torture, a little motivation is all someone usually needs,” I instruct Gwen again, listening to her take a few tentative steps forward. She keeps her distance though, as I slam my fist against Kayden’s face.
“Fuck,” he nearly screams, breathing hard through his mouth as blood trickles from his lip.
“Normally I would move straight to blades,” I informGwen, latching on to that little window in my mind. “But I don’t think our friend here is going to need much convincing.”
Kayden sneers, blood coating a few of his teeth.
“You don’t know fucking anything,” he says, before I land another blow across his face. His cry is choked, like he’s holding it back.