Lost somewhere between light and dark, Gypsy found herself paralyzed. Not by an accident, but by fear. She heard the noises around her and wanted to wake, but her eyes refused to pry apart. She knew if a cat had 9 lives, she had to be running out of chances. Shot, stabbed, kidnapped, and now what? What was this man going to do to her that hadn’t already been done? Dominic had to know she would never go anywhere without a back up plan. Sure, Gypsy was young, but she was far from dumb.
A quick open palm slap to her face, the young girl withered around the bed, crying out from the sudden jolt. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” whimpered Gypsy. With regret, she opened her eyes to a slit, peeking through the darkness at the figure across the room. Dominic Paloma sat there with a cigar in his mouth that teetered between his teeth. A quick puff and his mouth billowed out a cloud of smoke, the scent in the air thick with toxins and putrid smells. “Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on here? I have the god damn book you wanted, and you do this shit to me?” she growled. It was when she tried to sit up that the real fear set in. She was bound to the bed, well, her arms were. Dominic loved when they fought back, but there was no way he could have scratch marks on his body.
“I’ve got the book, interesting names in there, but now, you need to give me something to keep you alive. Honestly, without this,” Dominic said as he held up the worn binder, “Your life isn’t worth shit. You should beg me to humanely put you down. At least with me, you will go quick. Anyone else is going to make you suffer for every word you added. Not smart, Gypsy.”
“I fucking gave you what you wanted, and you don’t stand behind your word? I should have known you were just like Frank,” she whispered. The moment she said the name she tasted regret in her mouth.
Without a second thought, Dominic moved from the chair, straddling her waist fully clothed. As the cigar rested between his teeth, he reached down, ripping her shirt open with one tug. The only sounds in the room were ripping fabric. “You are going to compare me to Frank now? Remember when he raped that cunt of yours with a gun. Took your virginity with his revolver?” Dominic laughed. He pulled back hard on the cigar, the tip burning a bright shade of red. Without a second thought, the bastard inside of him took over. A quick roll on the cigar over her nipple, Dominic smirked when she cried out in pain. She would pay for putting Frank’s name in her mouth.
“You fucking son of a bitch. Stop it. I fucking gave you want you wanted,” Gypsy screamed. Her body twitching, the pain of the burn drove her nuts. She was not one who liked things done in minor ways. Her worst pet peeve was having one single strand of hair pulled at a time. Now this, was driving her crazy.
Dominic leaned his head back, laughter racing from his lips. He was amused at how she was acting. How she thought he cared about what she felt. Crushing the cigar under her right tit, he held it there long enough to smell the flesh burning. It was a putrid smell that sent him back to childhood when his father worked at a crematorium. Dominic would go with him on Saturdays to help get the bodies in the fryer. It wasn’t the sight of the skin peeling off, but that smell. He would never forget that odor. “Tell me that your sorry for making me want to puke,” Dominic growled as the back of his hand impacted her right cheek.
The pain wasn’t what she expected, but between the burning, and the slaps she cried out, tears running down the sides of her face. It hurt, and not in the way she enjoyed. There is a difference between being a pain junkie and a sadist. She was not the later. “Please don’t hurt me. I gave you want you asked for. I did my part of the deal,” begged Gypsy. It was not in her nature to beg anyone, but right now, she didn’t want to die. Many times, in her life she begged for death, but not now. Life was finally on an upswing, and she felt more at peace than she had in a long time. “I have a daughter. She is only 1 years old, and she needs me. Come on, Dominic, you’re a father. You can’t make my kid an orphan when I gave you what you asked for,” Gypsy cried.
Dominic laughed, looking down at the young girl, shaking his head before placing his hand to her throat. Pressing down without regrets, he held the pressure until her mouth stopped talking and her body lifeless. It was then that he had his fun. Just like in the funeral home, some bodies were just to enticing to pass up, and this one here, she will never forget Dominic Paloma after he finishes.