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“These beauties come in real handy for a little game the Chinese call—Lingchi.” He switches the knife in his hand out for another. “Do you know what Lingchi is, Ford?”
Ford bows his head and mumbles something I don't understand.
“What was that?”
He speaks again and this time, I understand him perfectly. “Death by a thousand cuts.”
“That's right,” Ricardo says before he cuts out another sliver of skin and Ford screams again.
Oh my God. This is...barbaric.
I take a step forward to put a stop to this, but Ricardo's next statement stops me in my tracks. “I was just going to cut out your tongue and cut off your ears and watch you bleed to death...since I already took care of your eye...but then I realized that it wasn't going to be enough. Because rendering you unable to see, hear, or speak evil ever again...will never undo all the evil you've done to the people I care about. It will never take back you setting up Graham's death, or manipulating and taking advantage of a heartbroken, little girl and sinking your hooks into her. It will never take back you setting my best friend up to die in a warehouse.”
I step back behind the pillar...because in an instant.
This monster...isn't one anymore.
Or rather...he is...but he's one that I can understand. He's a vigilante—albeit a twisted one; because he colors outside the lines—but he's defending those he cares about. Those who have suffered. He's the ultimate anti-hero if there ever was one.
Ricardo slices into his skin again and smiles. “You should see the way she looks at him, Ford. He makes her happy...truly happy. He also protects her, loves her the way she deserves to be loved...and he's going to spend the rest of his life right by her side doing all of those things. He undid all the hell you put her through.”
He points to the ceiling. “And after I take care of you? I know Graham can finally rest in peace...because his daughter will spend the rest of her life with a man who loves her as much as he did.”
A tear slips out of Ford's eye. “I loved her, Ricardo.” He clears his throat. “I love her—”
“No,” Ricardo sneers. “You didn't...because there's no way you could have done any of what you did to her.”
“I was protecting her!” Ford shouts. “Sometimes you have to do the unthinkable to protect someone...your father was going to kill her. If I didn't set up the tape...if I didn't make that deal with him he would have killed her. You know it just as much as I do. I'm a bastard...a monster...evil...call me whatever the fuck you want to call me because of what I did to Graham. I made that deal with your father because I loved her and I had no other way of protecting her. DeLuca gave me no other choice.”
“Doesn't mean you still don't have to suffer for your sins.” He slices through his skin again. “Sooner or later...we all do.”
“When do you get to suffer for yours? Huh?” Ford sneers. “When does DeLuca junior finally get to pay.” Ford chuckles and glares at him. “Oh, that's right. Soon.” His expression turns hard. “Too bad I won't be around to see it, but I'm sure that even from my toasty seat in hell, I'll enjoy every second of her hot little body being fucked over and over again by that per—”
I don't have time to register his statement because Ricardo growls and rams his hand inside his mouth, right before he yanks out his tongue and cuts it off.
“Damn, I really should have done that much earlier.”
Ford starts shaking with tears...I'm not sure if it's due to the pain or the fact that he knows the end is near and his time is up.
Ricardo's expression changes, and for a moment, I actually think he feels bad.
Ford must too because he whines and weeps his heart out and—I can't believe I find myself thinking this—but it's utterly heartbreaking to witness the final moments before someone's death.
Or rather, murder.
He's pleading for his life with his eyes...begging Ricardo to show him mercy.
Ricardo studies him for a beat before he picks up what looks like a Katana off the table and walks back over to him.
There's this moment between them. It's heavy and intense...filled with so much suffering from one end and the exchange of power in the other.
It's the moment between life and death. The moment where existence and execution is only a breath and heartbeat away.
The moment where Ricardo could still spare him.
Ford knows this and it causes his tears to turn into wails and his whines to turn into shrill pleads. It reminds me of a wounded animal and I actually find my own eyes filling up with tears despite my dislike for him.
My heart is torn right down the middle. I secretly hope he does save him—because that's the Ricardo I remember—and yet, I know I'll still love this side of Ricardo even if he doesn't.
Ricardo holds the katana over the chains keeping Ford in place and his eyes grow soft.
“You want to be let go?” Ricardo whispers, staring into his eyes.
Ford nods softly and the moment is so palpable, I can practically breathe it in—Ricardo's going to spare him after all. I feel it.
Ricardo's not a DeLuca...he still has a soul. He still has compassion.
“Okay,” Ricardo says roughly, angling the blade so he can slice through the chains.
Ford closes his eyes and smiles.
Right before the most gruesome and callous thing I've ever witnessed happens.
At the last moment...Ricardo pulls back and shifts the blade lower.
I almost puke when I hear the metal slicing clean through muscle and tendons as he cuts off his arms instead.
He stands back and laughs darkly. “There you go, Ford.”
Blood flows out in waves of crimson as Ford drops to the floor and gurgling sounds fill the room.
I never knew the human body contained so much blood, but then again I've never seen someone die in such a savage ma
Ricardo kneels down before him. “You don't get to hurt the people I care about and live. Now rot in hell.”
He drops his sword as Ford's eyes fix and dilate and his body goes limp.
Ricardo tilts his head up to the ceiling and his eyelids fall shut. “Rest in peace, Graham,” he says, his voice filled with emotion. “He can't hurt her or anyone else ever again. Sorry it wasn't sooner.”
A combination of awareness, acceptance, and passion strike through me and it feels like my body's in a trance when I take a few steps toward him.
He can't see me because his back is to me, but he turns around when I reach him and his hands clench at his sides.
Before he can speak, I do. “You're not a monster,” I say, my voice cracking. “It doesn't excuse what you did in the past, what you just did, or what you might do in the future.”
His jaw hardens but I continue, “But I don't need to stay away from you because I love you.”
I take another step forward and place my hand on his chest, remembering his own words to me so long ago. “I know you never wanted to show me this side—but I see you, Ricardo. And hostage or not, I'm not going anywhere.”
I reach up and touch his face and I feel his heart speed up. “Let your guard down with me for one night. That's all I'm asking for right now. You can go back to being the monster and evil mob boss tomorrow. Let me in tonight...let me be all yours tonight.”
It happens so rapidly the room spins and every single part of my body hums with excitement and adrenaline when he lifts me into his arms.
His lips smash against mine and my breath leaves my lungs so fast it almost burns the second my back slams into the pillar behind me.