Bad Teacher (Temp Title)

23| The Dealer

Nickolai

Blood splattered against the already soiled concrete floor.

The tied up man groaned lowly, pain clearly radiating through his body from the force of the blow. The air brimmed with deadly energy and the lingering stench of death clung to every part of the cell.

Valentin flexed his bloodied and bruised knuckles, glaring down at the man.

The one we’ve had locked up in the basement for the past two days.

I had specially chosen this house. The house with the underground cellars built in from many, many years ago. Hidden and cold rooms we had converted into the prisoners chambers. V liked to call them the torture rooms.

“We’re finally going to question you.” My dark voice cut through the air, sharp and whip-like.

A few days ago, after I had received that text from Blaylock saying that there were a few new dealers was in town, I immediately gave the order to find one and bring them in. It was almost too easy getting a number to buy the shit and capture the man the moment he showed up. It was actually a little bit pathetic.

We had him cooped up, beaten and bloody and asked him if he were ready to talk. My brother enjoyed the torture game, knowing what we had never even given him the chance to say anything.

He mumbled something through a bloody spit show, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that he had told me to go and fuck myself. V had obviously heard the same thing, because I watched as he gripped the dark hair of the idiot and yanked backwards.

The prisoner howled in pain as V kept his head back and his neck twisted uncomfortably. That had to hurt.

“How about you tell us what we want to know and we won't have to resort to having to put a knife up your ass to show you the true meaning of go fuck yourself,” he threatened into the dealers ear.

“I don't know even know what the fuck you want.” He spat blood at us, and my eyes dropped to the bloodied spittle. It had barely missed my shoes. I hated blood on my shoes.

“We haven't had the pleasure of asking you any questions,” I concluded, frowned and stared at his swollen face. Shit. We really did a number on the poor guy.

“We've been beating you up for...” V checked his watch before he turned to me. “... about 30 hours.” I nodded in agreement. Been around 30 hours. My brother and I chuckled darkly and turned to look at each other, clearly amused.

The dealer spat more blood onto the floor and eyed us. Or at least, he tried to as much as he could through his swollen eyes. “You guys are fucking crazy. Who the fuck are you?”

V's favourite question. I could see the glint of finality in those dark eyes of his. He either answered your questions or murdered you, and I didn’t need another dead body before I’ve retrieved all the necessary information.

I pushed up from the table just a few feet away from the prisoner. The metal square table behind me had too many tools to count, and we’ve been steadily using over the course of the last day. The rubber soles of my shoes on the concrete echoed through the room, slow and ominous, and it must have been way he  cowered as if to get away.

There was nowhere he could go.

My leather gloved hands tugged at my pants suit before I lowered myself onto my hunches and balanced perfectly. I watched as he sank back into the chair at my closing proximity.

“You see, Victor... my I call you Victor? I have a serious issue on my hands. I'm sure you'd like to know what is?” I watched Victor nod his scared little head. Perfect. “Now, a few weeks ago, I had some merchandise just vanish. Into thin air. Imagine my surprise when I find out that you have been selling my stolen shit.”

The packaging and the family crest, a twisted serpent right there on the label. The same crest tattooed onto each of us—a symbol of undying loyalty.

His eyes flashed with a fear and that brought a smile to my face. I think he was slowly getting the picture, couldn’t we say?

“So, we need your help. Do you understand, Victor?” I wasn't sure what scared him more. The gentle tone of my voice or the underlining threat he could pick up on.

He frantically nodded again. Well as much as he could with V still gripping the shit out of him.

 “Who is your supplier?” Was it the smile on my face or the edge to my voice that made him piss his pants?

V scoffed in disbelief as the urine splashed and echoed between all of us in the dank room. I couldn’t hardly believe it myself.

“Wow. I didn't realize you were that scary Nico,” It was meant to tease me, and for once I took the bait.

“Me neither.” I shook my head with mock confusion. “I thought I was a nice guy.”

His crack of laughter burst through the air between us while pissy in the chair had his fear-filled eyes bouncing between us like they were ready to pop out of his skull.

“You're not a fucking nice guy. Need I remind you that you’re not a gentleman either? ”

Oh, but I was V.

I had kept my fucking hands to myself—well as much as I possibly could. I hadn't touched her in the way I had wanted. I hadn't tainted her beautiful soul with my dirty hands. I should be glad that she had told me straight to my face that we had made a mistake, but I wasn't.

The rage that had filled me was what had caught me by surprise.

I couldn't believe that I was pissed off that a woman I shouldn't want  told me that our kiss had been a mistake. But I was. I hadn’t agreed with her.

There was no mistake here. Not one. Not me coming to this shitty town and meeting her. Not all our accidental touches and then the deliberate ones. Not us spending time together and definitely not that fucking kiss.

“I told you. I could be.” My hand lamely brushed over my beard with a foreboded feeling that felt way too heavy in this moment.

I wasn't sure what to do. All I knew was that I couldn't let her go.

I didn't care that she was 18. I didn't care that our worlds couldn't and shouldn't  have been mixing. I just wanted another taste. I needed more. I desperately craved more like a starved junky. I couldn't allow her to walk away from me, from this and what it could be.

I knew I had to come up with a plan for us to meet again somehow. Even if only accidentally.

I knew I was being selfish, but that's just how I've always been. Selfish. I want something and I take it.

Despite the fact that Cassandra wasn't anything like I've wanted to possess before, I knew the importance of her presence. I knew that this time was different. Still selfish, but filled with a desperation I had never before experienced.

“You're not though.” Glooming silence followed while the man between us panted painfully. V had somehow picked up the hidden secrets laced with my words. “You're just a bad man. If that innocent allows you to touch her, she'd shatter.”

In more ways than one, I wanted to tell him.

My attention zoned in on the confused expression of the idiot in front of us. He groaned as V's fingers tightened their grip.

“You always remind me that I'm a bad man,” I stared up at my brother, and I despised the coldness I saw lurking there. He had no soul. Whatever monster lurked in there only obsessed over money, death and their wife.

“Look in the mirror, big brother. The same face. Same killer instincts. Same fucked up madness we seemed to have inherited from our father.”

I couldn't agree more.

V sighed dramatically and stated down at the man. “Fuck. Truly pathetic to speak about family when you're... you know, torturing somebody. I'm sorry, but we’ll have to kill you now. Right after you give us the name of the supplier, of course.”