Page 59 of Finn
Twenty minutes later and I’m watching her drive away with Seamus and Ronan. Knowing she’s safe, I take a breath and remove her from my thoughts. She’s right, I can’t be distracted when I have hunting to do.
Chapter 40
“So, do you know who he’s managed to recruit?” We’re on the plane, headed to Chicago. We’ve only been in the air ten minutes and I’m itching to get back on solid ground. My demon is craving a kill.
I roll my neck and watch as Kill throws down a file in front of me. When Rory died, it was agreed that I would take over, but since Cara and I got married, and the truth came out about my history with Da, Kill has taken more of an active role in the security side.
He’s changing every day, and for someone who never wanted to lead, he’s taking the reins more and more. I don’t think he realises he’s doing it, but we’re all more than happy to let him be in charge. It’s where he belongs.
Marcus silently places two glasses of whiskey on the table in front of us then heads to the back of the plane. Grabbing my glass and the file, I take a sip, letting the burn warm me, as I flick through the pictures.
Twelve. Twelve of our men he’s managed to recruit. Three of them I don’t give a shit about, they are ones Liam brought in, but the other nine we trained by us and placed in those positions, and we thought we could trust them. Clearly, we were wrong. Even after we vetted everyone and cleaned house after we found out the truth from Alex, these fuckers still betrayed us.
My eyes lift from the photographs to meet Killian’s gaze. We know what needs to be done. Betrayal cannot go unpunished. We cannot appear weak to the outside, and more importantly to our own organisation.
We’re fair men, but we have always made it clear what would happen if you ever betrayed us and got caught. These men are about to find out we stay true to our word.
* * *
I’m leaning against the wall, watching Kill go to town on Frankie. His arms are secured by a winch, they are pulled tight, his body in the shape of a cross. There’s blood dripping from his chest from the O’Farrell emblem carved there. It’s a work of art, but it took a lot of effort with the blade of a dagger on the backdrop of a four-leaf clover––we haven’t bothered with the vine and rose detail, neither one of us are artists, and there is only so much soft play our demons will take. They like maximum pain, maximum damage.
Frankie screams, his throat raw as Kill uses a dull knife to hack off his little finger. I should have brought earplugs; he still has five digits and ten toes left.
“What was so appealing that you thought betraying us was a good idea, Frankie?” Kill is getting irritated, you can hear it in his voice, and the longer Frankie keeps his mouth shut, the worse it’s going to get.
Frankie whimpers and his head drops, his chin touching his chest, and I cringe, knowing how bad it’s going to get. Killian places his finger under his chin, lifting his head. “I’ll give you one chance to redeem yourself here. Tell me where to find Liam and I’ll make it quick and relatively painless.”
I sigh as he spits in Killian’s face. For fuck’s sake, why couldn’t he just tell him? I’m fucking hungry and tired. I slide down the wall until my arse hits the floor. I might as well get comfortable, we’re going to be here a while.
Killian ties the winch from the ceiling around his fingers on his left hand, pulling it tight, and I see his fingers pop out of their sockets. Frankie cries, but to his testament, he still hasn’t begged.
When Kill is satisfied there is enough tension, he turns to me and grins, before grabbing an axe from the table, and in one swift move, he cuts through his wrist. Frank screams as his body drops then swings, his other arm still secured in the winch.
I stand as Kill walks to the other arm and slices right above the elbow. His body drops to the floor with a thud. He lays there motionless, and I think for a minute that he’s dead, but the closer I get makes me realise he’s just passed out from the pain.
I grab two bottles of water and hand one to Kill. “How you doing, brother?”
He downs his bottle, throwing the empty one at Frank’s head, then he snatches mine from my hands before downing that too. “Hey, fuck face, I wanted that.”
He cocks one eyebrow at me, and I go grab myself another, staying far enough away from him so he can’t swipe this one. I take a drink, waiting for his answer, and he looks at Frankie and at his body parts still attached to the winch. “I’ll be better when we end this shit show.”
“What do you say we finish this fucker off and get out of here? I’m starving.”
He simply nods then grabs the blow torch off the table. My demon breathes a sigh of relief as he watches Kill seal the wound on the guy’s bicep. Frankie screams then passes out again. Rolling my eyes, I grab a bucket of ice water and throw it over him. It’s no fun if the fucker keeps passing out.
He splutters and tries to crawl away from us. Not in the mood to follow him all around the room, I walk over to him and smile. I reach for a plank of wood on the floor next to him, then bring it down, shattering his kneecap.
“No, please, I’ll tell you what I know, please…” He finally begs when he sees Killian walk towards him with a bottle of bleach.
“I think we’re past that now, Frankie, don’t you?” I spit at him.
“Please, he has a plan… I know it… well, some of it. He’s going after your women.”
I turn to Killian as I hear him bellow out a laugh, the fucker’s gone crazy. “Old news, Frankie. We already know that’s his plan, so tell me something else.” Killian opens the bottle and starts to pour over Frank’s open wounds. He screams and writhes on the floor in agony.
“Pl… I… he’s…” He struggling to string a sentence together, and it’s kind of amusing. Killian stops pouring long enough to give him a breather. “He’s… he’s using people. He’s... oh it hurts…”
“Frankie, I’m bored. Tell me something worthy or I keep playing.” He tips the bottle, pouring a little more bleach on his wrist, splashing my joggers in the process. He’s fucking lucky we’re burning our clothes.