Chapter 25: 17| Bones-1

: Bones (Tristan's POV) Sitting idle, I repeatedly tapped the surface of my watch, counting down each second with the tick of a hand and waiting for Dante to arrive. He was three minutes late. I glanced ahead, my finger coming down on the watch one final time as the echo of a shutter opening behind me boomed around the room. Moments later, it screeched shut. Dropping my hands on my thighs, I stood up with a sigh and spun around, sliding my hands into my pockets. "You're late," I announced, watching Dante stroll in with two men behind him, holding two masked victims. Not quite victims though, are they? "By three minutes, I'm aware," Dante replied, "New York traffic, I suppose." I eyed him for a beat. It wasn't New York traffic that kept him preoccupied… It was Anastasia. Ignoring the excuse, I glanced pointedly at the two chairs across from me. "Tie them down," Dante ordered his men as he walked over to me. "Who are they?" I asked, keeping my voice down. He lifted a brow at me in question. "Your men," I prompted. Exhaling, he pocketed his hands. "Don't worry about it. They'll be dead tomorrow morning too." I scoffed lightly, "If you keep killing the men who work for you, you'll be left with nobody to do the dirty work, Dante." "That's not a problem, is it, Tristan? I like getting my hands bloody." He glanced at me before diverting his attention to his men. "You both can leave." Without questioning the command, they both walked out, closing the shutter behind them. "Don't get too excited now," Dante taunted me as he rounded the table and stood behind the chairs. Despite both of them being in a deadly situation, their reactions were extremely different and I couldn't help but think that the man struggling and panicking in his seat was Jay. "Were the masks necessary?" I asked, bracing my hands on the table. "Couldn't have them knowing where they were being taken," Dante replied, ripping off the black rags he threw over their heads. It took a second of blindness for both of them to grow accustomed to the bright lights above us. My gaze shifted between them, observing and unraveling them. Jay frantically took a look around the warehouse, trying to figure out where he was, I presumed, while Nathan sat silently in his chair, breathing heavily. Dante clapped his hands on each of their shoulders and I watched as Jay flinched lightly. I couldn't help but tilt my head to one side as I stared at him and wondered what the fuck Amara could possibly have seen in this fool. Even if he was the scapegoat, the easiest target… she still kissed him. "Shall we lose the gags, gentlemen?" Dante asked them before untying the pieces of cloth around each of their jaws. Shifting my attention to Nathan while Jay caught his breath, I lifted my hands off the table and pocketed them once again. "Do you know who I am?" I questioned, holding Nathan's gaze. He stayed quiet for a while, contemplating if he should cooperate or challenge me, contemplating what he should do to get out of here alive. "Who doesn't know you in New York City, Mr. Harper?" he replied. I nodded slowly, looking up at Dante. "Aren't you leaving?" "Can't I help?" he retorted. "No," I shook my head once. He looked at the two men before him and then back at me. "Only you get to torture and kill them?" "Yes," I answered. "Because-" "Because they touched what's mine. Not yours." He paused for a moment but nodded lightly and walked back over to me. "You won't let me have my share of fun?" he asked. "As much as you enjoy sadistically killing people," I began, "they aren't here for your enjoyment. I'm afraid you'll have to find someone else to torture tonight. Perhaps your favorite Fed, hmm?" "Fair enough." He chuckled dryly before turning on his heels and walking away. I turned back to the two of them. "Jay, isn't it?" I asked, meeting his gaze. He swallowed nervously and glanced at Nathan. "Why am I here?" he questioned. "You tell me," I said, pulling out my cufflinks and placing them on the table before I rolled my sleeves up to my elbows and then took my watch and ring off. "Why are you here?" "Mr. Harper," Nathan cut in, "you said we touched what's yours." I hummed in response. "I'm… sorry," he huffed begrudgingly, "but there must be a misunderstanding." "I'm sure you wish there was," I retorted. "Sir," Jay began hesitantly, "if we did something to cross you or get in your way… we're sorry." Annoyance surged through me as I huffed and paused, staring at him. "I'll deal with you later." He closed his eyes and inhaled shakily. "Mr. Roberts," I began, "you've been running your little business very diligently, haven't you? Keeping tabs on people, selling off information…" Turning to the metal tray on a different table beside me, I grabbed both thumb cuffs before slowly making my way behind their chairs. I continued, "I understand you have a lot of meetings at nightclubs, don't you?" Using thumb cuffs to restrain someone was a method that people rarely used but it made it easier to control their movements since they were extremely painful. Secure them tightly and it would dislocate both thumbs, tear open the skin, and cut off circulation completely. I squatted down behind Nathan's chair first and cuffed both his thumbs together tightly, watching as he twitched in pain but kept his mouth shut. Little Jay wasn't so shy about hiding his pain though. "Often at The Dove?" I prompted, standing back up and rounding the table. He nodded shakily. "When was your last meeting at The Dove?" I asked. He hesitated. Rolling my eyes, I picked a knife off the tray. "I'm not always so patient, Nathan." "Three… three days ago." "What was this meeting about, Jay?" I lifted my brows at him. Before his eyes drifted off to his boss for permission, I cut in. "Don't look at him," I ordered, "answer me." "W-we were selling off information about Nicholas Ambrose," he answered, breathing heavily. I could notice his tremors as he glanced at the blade. "But you got distracted," I sighed, meeting his eyes as they widened in shock. "How do you…" he trailed off quietly. I couldn't help but let out a small laugh as I watched him in amusement. "Choose wisely, Jay. Who are you going to protect tonight? Your boss, yourself, or that woman?" He blinked in confusion. Glancing at the knife in my hand, I traced the sharp edge with my finger until I reached the tip and lightly twisted it in my grip. I had already stalled them long enough to instigate enough fear in them and I was starting to get tired of all that talking. Walking around the table, I stopped behind Nathan and dropped the blade on his shoulder, tilting it so the tip poked at his neck. "Do you have any idea how quickly you would bleed out if I were to cut any carotid artery in your neck?" I moved the blade to his throat. "Even faster if I slice your jugular vein." Shifting the blade to the side of his neck again, I began to apply pressure, a little more with each passing second. As he squirmed and panted in his seat, I pressed down harder, stopping the minute I cut through skin, creating the tiniest little cut. Certainly sharp enough for him to feel it, but not nearly deep enough to let him bleed out. He winced in pain and tipped his head down as I tossed the knife on the table for the time being and stepped back. "Stand up," I demanded. Obeying, he stood on shaky legs as I grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him back, reaching up to one of the two hooked chains dangling from the metal bar above us. Lifting his wrists, I secured the hook around the thumb cuffs, making him wince in pain. His weight was held up by nothing but the cuffs around his thumbs and his toes were barely brushing against the ground. He would be screaming in agony in no time.