I watch as she accepts this. “How did Arthur die?”
I should’ve expected that. But I’m not about to go back on my word. “Badly. But not badly enough.”
“What do you mean?”
I let my memory replay the details of that night.
The fear in his eyes.
His screams when I started to rip his finger off. The number of yanks it took me.
The pain he must’ve felt.
The way his eyes bulged while he choked on his own appendage.
“I did it before you told me––” My chest expands as I inhale, trying to calm my rising rage. “If I would’ve known that he was planning to sell you, I would’ve made him suffer for weeks. Not mere minutes. I would’ve––” I think of all the things I would torture him with. All the vicious ways I could prolong his torment. But I don’t need to put those thoughts in Payton’s mind. “I
