The F King: A Bad Boy Romance(108)

“Sit down,” said the guy who had to be Gavino Bertolini.

“Fuck-” I started.

“Do it, Austin,” urged Ken.

Fucked if I wanted to be tied up with my hands behind my back, but at least five fingers moved from the guards directly on to the triggers around the room. Ross was already sitting down before I slowly followed suit.

Ken secured the cuffs on us, presumably because nobody else wanted to get too close to me, while Gavino regarded us from across the room with a disdainful look he might give to a cockroach. He didn’t say anything until Ken stepped back.

“So you’re the fighter that’s been causing so much trouble. I thought you’d be bigger.”

I raised my eyebrows. Given his own size, comments like that were going to make it pretty fucking hard for me to feign the respect these Mafiosos wanted so desperately.

“Like I said to Renato, it’s-”

Gavino shook his head. “They told me you were a stubborn little piss-ant fuck. So I’m not going to be wasting more words on you than I have to. I want to show you a little multi-media presentation and then re-enter negotiations. Can’t hurt, right?”

“Do what you gotta do.” I shrugged. “Won’t make any difference.”

“Always.” He looked up at one of the guys in the corner. “Frans.”

A kind of metallic jingle caught my attention as Frans came out of his corner, pulling out a spool of some kind of wire from behind his back. I craned my neck to get a better view and saw he was wearing heavy gloves. Of course, he needed them. That was razor wire.

Four other guys put away their handguns and pulled out similar gloves, as Frans slotted the razor wire over a short pole bolted to the ground near the corner. Fuck… this wasn’t good. I looked at Ken, and he was staring resolutely at his own feet.

“What are you doin’? What are you doin’ with that?” Ross asked.

Nobody paid him any attention, least of all Frans himself, who was pulling the wire out in Ross’s general direction. When he had enough length, he wrapped it around the front of my coach’s throat and the razors bit in immediately.

Ross screamed and tried to move his upper body back as far as the bolted chair and handcuffs would allow, but Frans kept the wire taut enough to maintain contact without sinking in too far. In a few heart-stopping seconds, all five of the glove-wearers were behind us, lined up like a tug-o-war team as the first trails of blood started flowing down Ross’ neck.

“Stop! Stop!” I yelled, over Ross’ unintelligible pleading. “Fucking stop! I’ll throw it!”

“All questions are to wait until the end of the presentation,” said Gavino and nodded at Frans.

“Austin!” screamed Ross.

“Heave!” yelled Frans.

All five of them hauled the wire backwards, running razor after razor over and through Ross’ neck like an impossibly sharp chainsaw. His screams were quickly lost to gurgling sounds, as blood bubbles turned to froth on his neck and his very life sprayed all over the place.

“Heave!”

“Fuck!” I howled, as my oldest friend’s blood, skin and cartilage was cast off on to me.

I turned my head away, staring at the ground in front of the desk, as the first cold fingers of fear were swamped by the wave of pure rage that swept over me. If they made the mistake of ever letting me out of these handcuffs…

Somehow, Ross stayed conscious for a few more seconds, but it wasn’t long before the person I’d known the longest was just a corpse in a chair next to me. Over the pounding in my ears I could hear the heavy breathing of the chain gang responsible for my friend’s death, and I started to form a strategy for what I’d do if I could just get my hands free.

“What is the matter, tough guy? What’s the matter, Killer?” asked Gavino.

I didn’t answer. He’d have a heart attack if he knew what was going through my mind right now, and that would be too easy for a cunt like him.

“Cat got your tongue? Or are you finally listening to your motherfucking instructions and you want to wait until the end of the presentation for your burning fucking questions? Ken? Turn on the TV and press play on that fuckin’ thing there, then give me the remote.”

After a hesitation, Ken circled around me. Out of reach, even if my hands hadn’t been secured I fuckin’ noticed.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him press a button on the TV and then pick up the remote, studying it for a second and then jabbing it in the direction of the DVD player. The screen flickered a couple different colors as Ken handed the remote to Gavino, and then I heard a voice that poured liquid nitrogen down my spine.