Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

SALEM

J ustice Bane is the fire in my veins. He ignites a burning desire within me that destroys sanity and reason. Capturing him is like capturing the sun in the palms of my own, bare hands. He is the brightest, most magnificent part of my world. He's a beacon of light while I live and breathe in darkness and depravity. His screams feed the savage beast that burns hot beneath my flesh.

As I stand in front of his cell, I watch him sleep while I think about the torture I will inflict upon my little firebird the moment he wakes.

My phone rings, distracting me from thoughts of Justice, bound, broken, and at my mercy. Reluctantly, I step back from looping the chains around the cell door and answer the call.

"Where are you?" It's August Kensington, the man I pay to watch Justice when I'm unable to.

"The asylum. What's up?" I ask. I wrap my hand around the steel bar of the cell and watch Justice snore softly, the sedatives still working their magic and allowing my little firebird a short respite from the impending torture.

"Someone filed a missing person's report for Justice," he says, concern laces his tone.

I tighten my fist around the steel bar and drop my head as my stomach clenches. "Who?" I demand through gritted teeth.

"He ah…" There's a beat of silence, "Ah, it's?—"

"Who?" I shout.

Kensington clears his throat. "His boyfriend, Sal. The guy said he's Justice's boyfriend."

Hand clenched around my phone, I kick the bottom of the cell, seething with rage. "You said there was no one," I say with all the calm I can muster. "Have you been lying to me, Kensington?"

"NO!" he rushes out, voice panicked. "No, I had no idea they were fucking. I thought the guy was a friend, that's all." He shuffles some papers, then taps on a keyboard. "Maybe he's just saying that… you know, to get informa?—"

I cut him off, Ignoring his stuttering explanations, "Give me the address."

"Sal, I don't think that's a good idea. The cops have been hanging around—" Kensington starts.

"Give me the fucking address, now!" I growl into the phone.

When Kensington says he'll text me the address, I hang up.

Heavy footsteps come down the stairs. I shove my phone into my back pocket and head over to the door to unlock it.

Diablo takes one look at me and must sense the turmoil brewing beneath my skin. "What happened?" he asks.

"He has a fucking boyfriend," I seethe, wanting to tear the flesh from Justice's bones until there's nothing left of him that's been touched by someone else's hands.

"You mean had…" Diablo's blasé tone and his growing smirk tells me he's ready to kill for me. Before I can say anything, he reaches out and gives my hand a squeeze. "Come on," he nods towards the cage. "He'll be fine while we're gone."

I clench my fists, the urge to destroy something is an untameable desire that has my fingers twitching and my heartbeat pounding against my chest. I turn to look back at Justice's unmoving form.

"Sal," Diablo says, breaking through the red haze of rage that smothers my vision.

When I turn back to him, he runs his fingers through my hair, roughly tugs on the strands, then pulls my head back until I wince. The bite of pain trails down my spine and causes me to suck in a breath.

Diablo takes a step closer to me, his chest brushes against mine. "It's time to let him in," he says.

I try to shake my head, refusing to accept his words that will allow Justice complete access into our toxic world of darkness and depravity, but I'm stopped by the tight hold Diablo has on my hair. "Sal…" he says with a growl, "Let him give you what you need."

For twenty-five years, Diablo has been my brother, my closest friend, and my partner in crime—literally. We have a relationship that consists of intense codependency, toxicity, and unhinged madness. Without each other, we would annihilate the world… a volcanic eruption would pale in comparison. We share a bond forged from a dire need for human connection, and the innate desire to tether ourselves to someone who knows every secret, every scar, and every dirty, depraved thought we've ever had.

Averting my gaze, I swallow down the lump in my throat as he drops his hand and steps back. "Come on, let's finish this so you can set your little firebird free again."

F our hours later, it's nearing midnight and we're parked at the end of a tree lined, suburban street when Diablo cuts the engine of his sleek, black BMW. Dressed in black hoodies and jeans, we're camouflaged against the shadows as I sling my duffle over my shoulder, and we make our way towards Justice's house. If I find out this guy is actually Justice's boyfriend, nothing will stop me carving out his heart.

The ordinary, brick house is bathed in darkness when Diablo and I approach the front door. After a quick glance around the surrounding area for any potential witnesses, we pull on our balaclavas and hoods before I knock.

For a long minute, there's not a sound, and I wonder if he's even here. I knock again, and a voice from inside asks, "Who is it?"

"A friend of Justice's," Diablo answers.

The door creaks open slightly, but Diablo shoves it wide open as we barge into the house.

"What the fuck?" The guy lashes out with a weak attempt at a punch before he tries to escape. He stumbles over a nearby table and falls face-first onto the hardwood floor. In one swift motion, I draw my knife and press its sharp tip against his neck.

"Are you Jordan?" I demand.

"Yes, yes! Who are y—you? What do you want?" he stammers between panicked breaths. "Where's Justice?"

"Justice is safe," I state, rage building inside me at the mention of his name from this man's lips.

I pull a length of rope from the duffle and tie him to a chair. He struggles against the restraints and when he opens his mouth to scream, Diablo twirls his blade before pointing the tip under Jordan's chin.

Jordan stills immediately, tears streaming down his reddened cheeks as snot drips from his nose and his pupils dilate with terror.

"How do you know Justice?" I ask, my grip on the knife tightening as I shred through the fabric of his t-shirt.

"He... he's my boy—boyfriend," Jordan stammers.

My jaw tics, and I pierce his abdomen with my blade, causing him to cry out in agony. As his stomach clenches, blood seeps from the wound and trails a path down to his thin, grey track pants.

Diablo moves closer until he's standing between Jordan's parted legs, glaring down at him. "Since when?" he asks in his cold, detached tone.

"What? Why are you—" Jordan begins, but Diablo backhands him, splitting his lip and drawing fresh blood. "Si—six months ago," he finally says.

I tighten my grip on my knife and draw my elbow back, ready to plunge it into his heart.

Diablo shakes his head slightly, the gesture is for me, but he keeps his eyes trained on Jordan's petrified face. "Where do you live?" Diablo asks.

"Lorimer... Please, please just tell me what you want. I have some money, not much but—" Jordan offers, a desperate attempt to save his own life.

A sinister grin spreads across Diablo's lips as he leans in close to whisper in Jordan's ear, "We don't want or need your money." He traces the tip of his blade around the left side of Jordan's chest as though circling his beating heart. "This is what we came for."

Jordan swallows, sucking in a huge lungful of oxygen as he attempts to rein in his fear.

"See that man over there?" Diablo asks, motioning towards me.

Jordan swallows hard and nods.

"That's who Justice belongs to." Diablo steps back, then moves around the chair to stand behind Jordan as I approach.

"That's my brother," I say, lifting my chin towards Diablo. "My best friend. My fucking sanity."

My heart races as I watch Diablo grasp a fistful of Jordan's hair and yank his head back. Body convulsing, his voice reduced to desperate whispers, Jordan begs, "Pleaseplease, no, what do you want?"

The sharp glint of Diablo's knife hovers over Jordan's fluttering pulse, ready to slice him open from ear to ear.

"If he wasn't with me," I say, face twisted into a sinister grin, "you'd already be dead."

"No, no, no… Please!" Jordan screams, unable to break free from the ropes that bind him. Panic and terror fill his eyes as he pleads for his life. "What do you want? Tell me what you want!"

"I want to watch you suffer," I say simply. "And I want your heart," I add. "I want to carve it from your chest." I cup his cheek with my free hand. "I want to hold it in my hands and feel your blood flow through my fingers."

"NO! Nonono!" Jordan screams, but when Diablo's blade nicks the soft flesh of his throat, he falls silent.

"How many times did you fuck him?" I ask.

"What? I don't know," Jordan sputters through tears and snot. "How am I supposed to know that?"

"Once?" I ask as I slice into his left pec. "Twice?" Another cut causes him to choke on a sob.

Sniffling and gasping for air, Jordan stutters out an answer. "Nearly every day, I—I don't know..."

Looking into his pleading blue eyes, I continue marring his chest with cuts, each one deep enough to cause pain and to bleed profusely, but not deep enough to kill. "Ten?" I ask, making yet another slice.

"Please, please stop," he begs.

"Justice is mine," I say. "He's been mine for his entire life."

Jordan's eyes narrow in confusion, his fear replaced with a pinched expression before he gasps aloud. "You—oh my god, you're him..."

A smile spreads across my face as I confirm his suspicion. I pull my balaclava off and toss it towards the duffle. "He told you about me?" I question.

Jordan nods, his voice trembles, though it's laced with anger. "You've been stalking him since he was in high school. You... you hurt him, burned him!" With a sudden burst of courage, Jordan demands, "What did you do to him? Where is he?"

"That's none of your concern," I say.

"You're fucking crazy! Justice hates you," Jordan screams.

My grip tightens on the handle of my knife, his taunts ringing in my ears. "Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!" I mimic. In one quick motion, I plunge my blade into the back of his hand, eliciting a blood-curdling scream. Relishing in his pain, I twist my knife before pulling it free then dragging the blood coated blade across his cheek.

"You're right," I say, forcing the tip of my blade into Jordan's mouth. "I am crazy."

Diablo tucks his own knife away and holds Jordan's head still while I push my knife deeper into his mouth. Turning the handle, I drag the razor-sharp edge of the blade down the length of his tongue, relishing in his agonised screams.

When I draw my knife out, rich, crimson blood pours from Jordan's mouth, down his chin, and onto his chest and torso. I slice down the centre of his chest, the long, deep wound spills more blood, and as Jordan's eyelids flutter, and his breaths turn to erratic, gasping pants, I lean into whisper against his ear, "Justice is mine." I shove my knife into his heart and step back.

"You good?" Diablo asks five minutes later when he takes the can of accelerant from my outstretched hand.

I nod once, light a match, and throw it onto Jordan's mutilated corpse. As the flames rise, I inhale, watching in fascination as they curl around Jordan's severed limbs, blackening them until the scent of his burning flesh fills my nostrils.

I step back and pull the front door closed before we make our way back to the car.

I watch from the passenger side of Diablo's car as Justice's house goes up in flames. There are no fire trucks in sight. The three that are normally on call, have been called out to a massive inferno at a fishing and camping store further out of town.

When concerned residents begin pouring from their homes, and police sirens sound in the distance, Diablo pulls away from the kerb and takes off into the night.