Barry saw the green numbers on the clock on the stove from where he sat on the kitchen chair. He’d taken some comfort when Llanzo told him they were going to gag and tie him up, then take off.
Two-thirty. I arrived at two … what time will it be before the cover team figures out something’s gone wrong? Five, six, seven? Dope deals never go on time. They may think I’m sitting in here, sucking on a beer and waiting.
“Use his sock and T-shirt to gag ’im,” Llanzo ordered.
Barry removed his T-shirt and placed it on his lap. Llanzo moved in behind him, and he felt the muzzle of the pistol at the base of his skull. Tarone and Leo then used the power cord from an electric skillet to tie his wrists together behind his back and secure them to the chair. Electrical cords, still attached to a toaster and a kettle, were used to bind his feet to each of the front legs of the chair.
Tarone yanked off Barry’s shoe, then his sock. “Open up nice and wide, piggy. That’s it.”
Seconds later, Barry sat with his sock crammed in his mouth, his T-shirt rolled up and tied around his jaw to hold it in place. Tarone turned his back to him, and he heard the sound of utensils being moved around in a kitchen drawer.
Oh, God, no. Please don’t …
Tarone turned back, grinning, and Barry writhed in pain as Tarone cut him with a paring knife, slowly drawing it down from the top of his shoulder, across his nipple, to his stomach, before ending with a sharp twist of the point inside his navel.
“How ya like that, piggy?” Tarone asked, holding the knife in his bloody fist close to Barry’s face.
“That’s enough,” Leo said. “We’re in enough shit. Come on, we better split.”
“No fuckin’ way Tarone an’ I are goin’ back inside,” Llanzo said. “You can fuck off if ya want. But you’ll be missin’ out on a whole lotta fun.”
“Yo, bro, it’s school time,” Tarone added. “Piggy is gonna get taught.”
Leo glanced toward the living room, then back at Barry. His face said he wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t leave.
“Yo, bro, let me show ya how it should be done,” Llanzo said, shoving the gun in his waistband as he went to the kitchen drawer. “First of all, you did it too fast. Second of all, a fuckin’ steak knife is better, ’cause it’s serrated.”
Barry knew his muffled cries brought on more slashes and more amusement on Llanzo and Tarone’s faces, but it wasn’t something he could control. On the fifth jagged cut, this time across his belly, the numbers on the stove read 2:47. Then he blinked, and the numbers read 3:05. The men had disappeared. He heard their voices from the living room.
I passed out.
The front of his jeans was sodden with blood and he felt his bare foot slip in a bloody puddle on the linoleum floor.
Llanzo’s voice came from the living room. “We need to get rid of ’im. If we’re grabbed we can say, yo, man, he was here but then he left.”
Barry struggled with his wrists, trying to slide them up and down in a desperate attempt to free himself. I can feel the cord in my fingertips. Work it … loosen the knot.
“Figure he’s got the thirty large?” Tarone asked.
“Fuck, if he does, you can bet the cops are watching his car,” Leo stated. “I’d stay away from it.”
“What we should do is gut ’im out in the tub,” Llanzo said.
A moment of silence was broken by the sound of someone sucking on the crack pipe, then Tarone said, “That’d be good. Maybe one of us go out and get a hacksaw and some fuckin’ garbage bags. Once he bleeds out we could cut ’im up and suitcase him outta here.”
“You’re readin’ my mind,” Llanzo said. “Also get a bottle of bleach to pour down the drain later. Maybe on the kitchen floor, too.”
“You guys are fuckin’ crazy,” Leo said. “I ain’t hangin’ around to watch that shit.”
Llanzo blurted out a laugh. “What, no stomach for it?”
“Yeah, don’t ya wanna see what piggy had for lunch?” Tarone asked.
The door slammed, then Llanzo and Tarone laughed.
Leo’s gone.
“That fucker givin’ us the finger,” Tarone said. “Next time we see ’im I’m gonna tell ’im what a pussy he is.”
My hands are almost … yes, they’re free!
“Let’s go do it,” Tarone said. “We can gut ’im and leave ’im to bleed out while we go get what we need.”
Barry clenched his teeth in pain as he bent forward to fumble with the cords around his ankles.
“Yeah, yeah. Give me a sec,” Llanzo said.
Barry heard the pipe crackling again as he slowly rose to his feet. His arms and legs were trembling from a combination of shock, fear, and blood loss. He knew he’d never be able to run past them in the living room and escape out the door alive. He looked at the balcony.
“We’ll leave the hot water runnin’ in the tub to help wash things down,” Llanzo said, followed by the sound of the crack pipe being placed on the coffee table.
Barry slid open the balcony door and rushed out. He heard Tarone scream at Llanzo to grab him, but didn’t look back as he swung himself over the railing, clinging to the wrought-iron balusters with his bloody fists and sliding down to the bottom rail. Briefly, he felt his body swing freely in the air, then Llanzo’s face appeared above him and his fingers slipped from their hold.