Victor wasn’t rushing. He was taking his time. He was pacing himself. You wanted to go to the feds, Tessa? Victor panted slightly between swings. You wanted to tell them about the shipments, about the crates in warehouse 4. Well, here is your subpoena. Thud 8. Tessa was crying now, begging. Mason.
Mason, help me, please. There was a pause on the tape. A hesitation. Don’t you look away, Mason. Victor snapped. Look at her. This is what happens to rats. This is what happens to traitors. Hold her leg tight or I will break yours next. I’m holding it, Dad. Mason’s voice. Weak, trembling. But he didn’t let go.
He held her leg while his father shattered her. That was the moment I marked Mason for death. Cowardice is a sin, but participating in the torture of your own sister to save your own skin, that is a soul rot that cannot be cured. The counting continued. The sounds of the hammer hitting flesh became wet, squishy.
