Part Three: Chapter 9: Attention

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Jack's POV

I put a screwdriver tip into an electric drill. I plug it into a powerstrip. "Tell me the name on the offshore account."

I say and position a screw onto the back of a man's hand

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I say and position a screw onto the back of a man's hand. He's bound to a chair and can't move his legs, chest, arms or wrists away from me.

"Screw you Jack," he pants and spits blood into my freshly shined shoes. I loathe Italians and their spitting. Such a disgusting thing to get a point across. Don't they know diseases and illnesses spread that way? Doesn't he know I'm gonna have to pay some kid to get that off and shine me up again? I wasn't trying to make some kid sick.

"Not the answer I was looking for," I say and shake my head. I then position the screwbit over the screw. I hit the trigger on the drill. Blood starts to pool on the back of his hand as I drill the screw into him. I drill the screw into the chairs wooden arm. He screams and wiggled but it doesn't throw me off. I'm rather used to this sort of thing. I can usually predict their movements and compensate my own.

"You sick motherfucking fuck you!" He moans out loudly.

"You ready to give me that name?" I ask and cup my hand around my ear and listen. But he says nothing. So I reach down and pick up another screw. I place it to the back of his other hand.

"They'll kill me if I tell you," he wearily pants.

"What a predicament you seem to be in. I'll kill you if you don't. But not before I get bored. I should warn you that I'm pretty creative. It'll be a long time before I run out of ways to torture you." I press the trigger on the drill again and drive the screw all the way through his other hand.

"Fuck you you crazy son of a bitch!!" He cries out.

"I'm not crazy," I say in a low voice.

"Whatever you say Jack! Whatever you say! Please stop!!" He begs.

"Say the name on the account and I'll stop." I say as I kneel down positioning a screw over his kneecap.

"Jacob Donovan!" He blurted out.

"Jacob Donovan?" I repeat.

"Yeah yeah! Jacob Donovan! Jacob fucking Donovan!!" He repeated with emphasis.

I pull the trigger on the drill again and listen as he screams out in pain. Kneecap injuries are the most painful you know? A little river of blood runs down his leg and soaks into the fabric of his light grey pants.

"Why'd you fucking do that?! I told you the goddamn name!!" He snaps.

I shrug, "How else could I be sure?"

"Damn Jack," chuckles the guy with me.

I glare at him, "Does something strike your funny bone? Am I funny to you?"

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