41. Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty

Vincent

S neaking onto the Lewis estate was easier than it should have been. Busting down the front door and throwing him into the trunk of Ronan's car, even easier. What's difficult is getting this motherfucker to talk.

We drove him to Ronan's house and unloaded him into the cellar. Ronan has never used the cellar before, and it shows. Cobwebs and rats cover every inch of the place. Conveniently, there is a room with a single dim light, no windows and enough space for me to…play.

My fist drives into his jaw, sending Lewis' head snapping to the side before spitting out a glob of blood. He lets out a whimpered groan as he shakes his head.

"P-please. I don't know what you want. I don't know anything."

"Cut the shit!" I seethe. "I'm not in the goddamn mood for your bullshit. Admit that you've been stalking Skyla, and I'll make sure to kill you nice and fast."

"Skyla?" he asks in confusion, his eyes moving to Asher and Ronan's before coming back to me. "Skyla Parris? Why would I stalk her?"

"I saw the way you looked at her at our engagement party," Asher cuts in, coming to stand beside me as he does. "You called her Giselle."

He shakes his head frantically. "It was a mistake. She looks so much like her mother. It caught me off-guard."

"Why would it?" Ronan asks. "What was she to you?"

"Nothing," Lewis answers quickly, causing Asher and I to share a look.

Wordlessly, he moves to the corner of the room where a five-gallon jug of water is before I grab a towel and wrap it around his face. Ronan moves behind him, tilting the chair backwards as Asher lifts the water jug up and over Lewis. The water begins to pour over the cloth, drawing out the suffering before I nod to Asher, and he pulls away. Ronan rights the chair and I pull the towel as he begins coughing up water.

"Let's try that again," I say. "Who was Giselle Parris to you?"

"Before," he rasps. "Before she married Henry, she was Giselle Thompson, and she was…everything. She was everyone's everything. There wasn't a man on campus who wasn't in love with her."

Hm, sounds familiar.

"And when Skyla came to town, you saw it as your second chance? Your redemption?" Ronan guesses.

"NO!" Lewis defends, his head swinging back and forth between us.

Frustration boils beneath my skin and I can't stop my forehead from swinging forward, cracking against his nose and exploding the thing across the goddamn room. He screams in pain as I grip his shirt and yank him closer to me.

"You're a fucking liar! Did you tell your piece of shit son about this obsession? Is that why he planned to hurt her? To rape her? I should have broken more than his goddamn legs."

Outrage fills his eyes as he looks up at me.

"Y-you hurt my son? He didn't fall?"

I scoff and roll my eyes. "Of course he fell. After a nice hard shove he fell all the way down those stairs. I scooped his bitch-ass up and took him to the hospital, though. I could have left him."

To my surprise, he fights against me. Ronan and Asher each rest a hand on his shoulders, pinning him into place. A grin spreads across my face as I watch him buck and curse me.

"You son of a bitch! You ruined his fucking life. He may never walk right again because of you!"

"No, that would be because of him. It was your piece of shit son who planned to rape the love of my life. A couple of broken legs was just part one of his punishment."

"The love of your life?" he frowns before looking up at Asher. "I thought she was Putnam's?"

Ronan and Asher shoot me irritated looks. Oopsies. Guess we really have to kill him now. Not like I wasn't already planning on it. Guilty or not, he's an Elder, which means he has more blood on his hands than any human ever should. His death will be celebrated one day. Though, I'm not fully convinced he isn't behind this. Or maybe it's him and Dane. Lewis clearly seems to hold some contempt for Henry.

I stand upright, slowly making my way over to my bag of goodies before I rifle through it. It takes me a moment to find what I'm looking for, but when I do, I hold it up like a grand prize.

"A meat tenderizer?" Asher questions.

I don't respond. Instead, I cross the room, whistling an eerie tune as I do. Lewis' eyes dilate in fear the closer I get to him, and I can't help but grin as I allow the darkness inside of me to take over this little interrogation.

"You don't seem to think highly of Henry Parris," I say.

"Wh-what makes you say that?" Lewis stutters, his eyes flicking back and forth between me and the cleaver.

My smirk lifts. "Intuition."

Slowly, I allow my left hand to trace every sharp point of the tenderizer, keeping my eyes on Lewis as I speak.

"Explain."

His eyes flick to Ronan and Asher before back to me, shakily shrugging his shoulders.

"He's a prick, no one likes him."

I nod my agreement. "True, but you seem to have a special kind of hate for him. So, elaborate. You had a crush on Giselle in school, yes?"

Lewis's teeth clench. "Yes."

"But she didn't return those feelings?" I guess.

His jaw tics, confirming that piece of information.

"Of course she didn't, look at you," I sneer, attempting to see if goading will pull him out of his quiet shell.

Still, he doesn't give in.

"That's why you're stalking Skyla, right?"

"I'm not stalking a little schoolgirl," he snaps defiantly.

Oh, it's going to be like that? Perfect.

"Left or right?" I ask.

"What do you mean?" he asks cautiously.

"Left or right, it's a simple question."

Lewis narrows his eyes at me before he says, "Left."

I nod at that, promptly grabbing his right hand, forcing it to lay flat against the arm of the chair he's in. Lowering my face to his, I smile in a way that I can tell turns his stomach.

"You're not the stalker; for argument's sake, let's say I believe you. Now, tell me something that will interest me, or I'll break your goddamn hand. You have a lot of bones. I can repeat this game as many times as it takes."

"W-what do you want to know?" he stutters, as I lift the tenderizer and crush it against his hand.

He squeals like a pig, moaning and shouting in pain, as Asher and Ronan hold him in place.

"Left or right?" I ask again.

Lewis is too busy whimpering and crying to listen, so I give him a little reminder to pay attention. My fist drives into his temple, sending his head reeling as he blinks roughly.

"Left or right?" I prompt again.

He blinks hard as he attempts to look at me before he shakes his head. A squeak catches my attention, and I watch as several dozen rats scamper off into a dark corner. An idea springs to mind, and I quickly drop the tenderizer, leaping over to the rats and grabbing one. I hold it by the tail as I gesture towards Asher.

"Tie his arms to the chair. Then grab me the thick gloves, metal bowl and blow torch," I rattle off.

Asher nods slowly but complies, tying up Lewis before fetching the items. The rat is going crazy in my hand, desperate for an escape. Soon, little guy. I can tell by the squeamish look on Ronan's face that he knows what my next move is, but like the good little helper he is, he grips Lewis's shirt, ripping it open to exposed his bare beer belly. Perfect.

I extend a hand for the bowl and Asher hands it to me before I set the rat down onto Lewis's stomach, trapping it in place with the bowl.

"Ah! Fuck! Get this fucking thing off me!" Lewis snaps.

Shaking my head with that unhinged smile I've perfected, I extend one of my hands, keeping the bowl in place with the other, as I gesture for Asher to glove me. He does so wordlessly before doing the other hand as well. Finally, I'm handed the blow torch and I bring it to the bowl before I pause.

"Did you know that rats can chew and dig through almost anything, especially when their life depends on it? Wood, plastic, even steel pipes on occasion."

Lewis squirms, his breathing labored and panting. My finger clicks the torch on as I slowly bring it to the bowl.

"I'd hate to see what this little guy is capable of chewing through when it gets a little too toasty in here."

The tip of the flame just grazes the metal when he screeches.

"Ah! Okay, okay. Giselle w-was a good girl until she was betrothed to Parris. Then her and Putnam started spending a lot of time together as well. All three of them were together."

I yank the flame away, looking at him curiously before I clock the confusion and shock on Ronan and Asher's faces.

"What do you mean?" I ask with narrowed eyes.

"Like they both fucked her. Putnam wanted her, hated that Parris was promised to her. Even tried to get Luther to switch their brides."

Ronan frowns at this. "Then what?"

"Then nothing," Lewis continues. "The wedding eventually came. Giselle married Parris. Isabel married Putnam. That was it until Giselle died. Everyone was devastated when we got the news. Christopher went off the deep end, took off for Europe or something for half a year."

Understanding passes on Ronan's face, like a piece of a puzzle clicked into place. Being smart, he keeps his mouth shut as we continue to listen.

"Who else was obsessed with Giselle?" I ask, as my eyes move to Asher and Ronan before back down to Lewis.

"I told you! Everyone. She was fucking perfect. Apparently, her daughter carried on her allure from the looks of it," he says, as he glances to all of us.

Ronan decks him, and I have to keep pressure on the bowl as he jerks in place.

"C'mon, Lewis. You're a smart man. Think. Who could be stalking Skyla? Mistaking her for Giselle, obsessing over her all these years later."

He shakes his head. "I don't know."

"Wrong answer," I grit out, before lowering the torch back to the bowl.

It heats up in no time, burning even through my gloves as he begins to scream. The sound of the rat squeaking as well as chewing and tearing flesh is audible through the bowl, as Lewis's cries for help fall on deaf ears. We all watch him squirm and shout. To my surprise, Ronan and Asher hold up well. Perhaps they have more potential than I realized.

"Give me a name and it'll all go away," I offer.

He can't speak though, he's in too much pain. Instead, he groans and screams, his body shaking in shock at being eaten and clawed alive.

"Vincent, enough," Asher says. "He's no good to us dead."

I look up at the youngest Putnam. "He's no good to us alive. He knows too much."

"So, what? You're just going to kill him? An Elder?" Asher challenges.

"Well, I'm sure as shit not letting him go. We'd all be dead by morning, isn't that right?" I ask the practically seizing Lewis. He doesn't speak, just moans and shakes as he stares up at the ceiling.

Ronan nods his head. "Vincent's right."

A few more minutes go by, before the squeaking stops and Lewis's sounds fade altogether. Ronan reaches down, feeling for a pulse before he shakes his head.

Rot in hell motherfucker.

Removing the torch and the bowl, it takes a moment before the blood-soaked rat scampers out of Lewis's body. A decent sized hole is now in the center of his chest, organs half chewed through and oozing blood. It's a gory sight, one that honestly rivals any I've ever seen. It was no doubt a painful death, but for a man that molested his six-year-old niece and got away with it thanks to the Brethren, it wasn't painful enough, in my opinion.

"What now?" Asher asks.

My eyes swing up to his.

"Now, it's time for you to have a chat with your daddy."