For his part, all Hunter could do was crawl on his knees in front of Gaspar, sobbing. He hugged Gaspar's boots, kissing them pitifully as his tears and snot dripped onto them. “Please...not her...I'm begging you, okay? You wanted me broken, you've done it. Torture me, kill me, fuck me, do whatever you want, just please, please, Gaspar...please, just let her go...”
Gaspar shook his head sadly, pulling his boots away from Hunter. He inspected the mess he'd left on them disdainfully, wiping them off on the patch adorning Hunter's cut.
“You still do not understand,” Gaspar sighed. “All of these words, all of these chances to finish this, and still you believe you can dictate how this ends. It seems that regrettably, another demonstration is called for.” He turned to Hector. “Put her down here, next to me.”
Hector lowered Missy's unconscious form to the ground. Gaspar kneeled next to it, gently pressing the tip of his knife against her thigh, then her abdomen.
“So where shall I make my first romantic incision, then, do you think? Here? Or here?”
Chapter 42
Missy
As Missy slowly regained consciousness, she felt like someone was trying to pry her skull open with a crowbar. This made sense, since the last thing she could remember was being pistol-whipped in the motel bath tub.
Before she could fully react to the agonizing pressure in her head, though, she felt something else—strong arms under her back and knees, carrying her.
Don't move, she thought immediately. Don't open your eyes. If he's left you alive and he's carrying you somewhere, there must be a reason for that. Maybe even something you can exploit if you're clever enough and quick enough. If you can fool him into thinking you're still conked out, you can use his surprise to your advantage before you make your move.
So she went along, staying motionless as the man moved her. But remaining still and quiet in the face of so much pain was almost impossible. Her eyes felt like someone was digging his thumbs into them, and an anguishing throb drilled into the base of her skull. All she wanted to do was squeeze her eyelids tight, curl up into a ball, and groan.
Missy knew that in many cases, when a sharp blow to the head resulted in a loss of consciousness, it could lead to the brain swelling and damaging itself against the inside of the skull. She'd even heard of people whose swollen brains had started to leak from their ears and nostrils in severe cases.
Please let that be an urban legend, she silently begged. Or if it's not, please let my head injury not be that bad. Or if it is that bad, then please, God, just give me a little more time first, just enough to try to get us out of this...
She heard the man carrying her call out, “Gaspar!”
Inwardly, she celebrated the possibility of being brought close enough to Gaspar that she might be able to take him down.
Just a few more seconds, she told herself. Just hang on that long.
Missy heard Gaspar's voice. “Ah, there she is! Perhaps now we won't have to waste much more time with threats and indecision. You, however, have served your purpose.”
A split-second later, Missy heard a strange wet sound, followed by a splash and a male voice retching. She heard a frightened murmur from the Eagles, and Cain screaming, “Keith! No!”
God fucking damn it, Missy thought as she listened to the writhing and gurgling that followed. The motherfucker cut Keith's throat.
Stay focused, another voice in her head insisted. It was an odd combination of her parents' voices—her father's toughness and her mother's quiet pragmatism. That voice told her there was nothing she could do about Keith, but there was still plenty she could do about Gaspar as long as she didn't lose her nerve.
You've got to let him get close, the voice continued. Too close. So close it scares you, so close he might even have a chance to hurt you before you can hurt him. You need to risk that, because you've seen how fast he is with those pistols. You know that if he's even an inch too far away for you to do what you have to do, then that's it, game over. He’ll pull them and smoke you before you can blink. He's faster than God. So if you do one thing in your life right, Missy, you damn well make sure it's this.
Gaspar was making more threats. “...Choose one of your men for me, or I will start cutting holes in this woman and fucking them until she dies of blood loss. I can assure you, it will take quite some time.”
Missy's brain started to panic as it imagined how that might feel, and it took every ounce of willpower she had to banish those thoughts.
Don't do it, Hunter, she thought. Don't do it, Cain. Don't give in to this psycho, no matter how much you love me, no matter how much he scares you. Hold firm for just another minute. Make him come over to me and fuck with me to frighten you, like I know he will, and I promise you'll be glad you did. Don't try to be some macho hero, sacrificing yourself for me.