Free Master of None by Sonya Bateman Page B

lip and dribbled down my chin instead.
    This was Trevor’s subtle way of telling me to shut up. It worked. Couldn’t speak if I wanted to.
    “If you had my item, Mr. Donatti, you would have given it to me by now.” His voice wavered and splintered against my pounding eardrums. “Eventually, you will explain what happened. I’m not ready to question you yet. At this point, your job is to listen.”
    “Listenin’,” I slurred, slopping more drool onto the floor.
    Trevor zapped me again. I screamed.
    “You believe if you don’t cooperate, I’ll kill you. I won’t. You believe if I leave you alone long enough, you’ll find a way out. You can’t. You believe torture is the worst that can happen to you, and death is preferable.” He moved in and brought his face inches from mine. “It isn’t.”
    I believed that.
    Had to pull myself together. I drew several deep breaths and tried to calm my jittering muscles, aware that short Taserbursts didn’t cause death. Only temporary paralysis and incredible pain. My legs responded slowly, and I managed to hold a little weight with them. I lifted my head. “You’re not . . . giving me a lot of . . . incentive.”
    Trevor grinned. There were icebergs in his smile. “I don’t have to, Mr. Donatti. You see, I don’t need your cooperation.”
    “What?” My voice cracked. If he didn’t need me, why hadn’t he just shot me?
    He acted as if he hadn’t heard me. “Regarding other things I don’t need, your lovely friend Jasmine is a liability. The boy, too.”
    “Don’t you touch him,” I snarled—seconds before my brain worked out that I’d chosen the wrong pronoun.
Oh, Jesus, no . . .
    “Him?” Trevor stared at me. The icebergs flashed. “Why, Mr. Donatti. What blue eyes you have.”
    H E ET ME HEAR HIS PHONE CONVERSATION WITH THE THUGS .
    “Have you gotten to her van yet? All right. When you do, let her and the boy go, and follow her. Don’t alarm the lady. Remember, I want that body. If it’s not there, I’ll send others to look for it. I have a different job for you.” Trevor paused and sent a smile in my direction. “Wherever she ends up, I want a silent hit. Kill her, finish anyone else you find, and bring the boy back to me.”
    I couldn’t breathe.
    Trevor disconnected and pocketed his phone. “Well, Mr. Donatti, it seems we’re going to have company.”
    “Why?” I finally managed. “You have me. Why hurt them?”
    He grinned. It was an awful expression, full of bitterness. “Because I need that item you lost. You have no idea howmuch. But mostly, because I can. And I did warn you that being tortured wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.”
    “I’ll kill you, Trevor. Believe that.”
    He looked at me as if he was actually considering the possibility. “I believe you’re convinced that you will. You can’t, of course. But you do possess more fortitude than I gave you credit for, and that is saying something.” He crossed to the pegboard, scanned it. After a moment, he reached out and selected the smallest pair of needle-nose pliers, just three or four inches from tip to end. “If you’ll excuse me, I must prepare for our guest. Don’t worry, Mr. Donatti . . . I’ll let you see him first. I’ll let you see everything.”
    My mind emptied. I couldn’t threaten him, couldn’t insult him. Couldn’t even move, despite my body’s desperate desire to lunge, snap the rope, gouge the sick bastard’s eyes out.
    “You’re speechless?” Trevor approached me, Taser back in hand. “And I thought you’d never shut up.” He stopped and thumbed the trigger a few times. Sparks snapped from the prongs in the semidark, bright as fireflies. “Where would you like it this time?”
    He couldn’t bring me any lower, so I spat in his face. “Up your ass.”
    “Oh, that’s far too much trouble.”
    I had time to think that at least I’d wiped the smug smile from his face before he jammed the Taser into my stomach and