The Son-In-Law’s Revenge

11

Just as he was about to speak feverishly, he felt a piercing pain at the side of his neck as he slipped again into unconsciousness.

The present…

The Stench odor of the basement would prevent him from throwing up in disgust if his mouth was not gagged. Reluctantly, he swallowed whatever lump he could feel behind his throat and looked around again.

For the first time in a long time he was alone, Logan became aware of this and tried twisting his hands to get out but was faced with difficulty.

Who are these people?

What do they want?

His thoughts sank into the darkness embedded in him,  returning to him unanswered and void. Logan's mind was stained by the circumstances surrounding his situation.

Skidding pulses, a heavy heartbeat at one point he could feel his mind go blank—

He tried screaming but could only make muffled noises, at a point he gave up. There was no use fighting this anyway as he was certain there was no way he would get out of the situation even if he got out.

All that filled the room was silence and occasionally water leaking from a broken pipe somewhere…

His thoughts were Infiltrated by the noise of vehicles arriving, —

Momentarily, he listened as footsteps made their way into the room, he listened as one made its way toward where he was and pulled the black sack from over his head.

It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the bright light around the room but eventually, he did.

His eyes darted round to take everything in one swooping look, and when the tape covering his mouth was pulled quite roughly leaving him with agonizing pain, he let out his anguish.

"Fuck!" He muttered.

Whoever these people were he knew immediately they shouldn't be messed with as it looked as though they were In a sort of gang.

"Who are you?" He rattled out a bit unsettled.

"Why did you bring me here? " He questioned again.

He felt a sharp pain on the side of his face where a man's fist had connected, leaving him almost out cold. To make certain that he was still conscious, a bucket filled with icy water was poured over his head.

More punches went to his lower belly and chin and all this went on for a while till a feminine rang out from somewhere around.

"Stop!" Her voice rang out through the void space.

Logan could taste blood from a cut on his lips, he spat at the feet of the man who had been assaulting him and for a minute he thought the man could as well hit him again.

With his hand in midair ready to swipe Logan again, an order came from behind again.

"We need the fucking man alive, hit him one more time and I'd have your tongue." The woman's voice rang out through the cold air.

A strained quiet crept between them before he stepped away just as the woman had instructed.

He could see her now, one would have thought a woman of her nature with such power to run the Mafia would be rather ridiculous but not her.

Not her, she was the most ravishing woman he had ever come across —

It was hard to pitch her with such evil, more like coming to terms with the Yang that good existed amidst such evil.

She locked her gaze on the man. "I have a few questions to ask, answer them you'd get to go but fail to answer my questions?"

She stood back as two viciously looking bulldogs with their nuzzles confined walked into the room.

Logan tensed, somehow not believing their sizes, at his first glimpse of her it was hard picturing her but at a second guess he could see how wrong he was, she was a fucking bitch!

He  couldn’t help but notice she wore the same

Color of the scarf as the rest, Swallowing the bitter taste in his  mouth, he said:

"Who are you?" He questioned. " I am not going to give answers to your questions."

While he thought his question should have been  liberating; it turned out, it  was

the biggest mistake he’d ever made.

His gaze was a lit match in a pitch-black room as he merely saw her nod her head. A cold shiver rolled down his spine at the indifferent tone of the woman.

She had barely given the command when he was punched right in his guts.

"Now this is how it is going to be, I ask the question you reply?"

Logan could only bring himself to nod his head.

" Who the hell are you, and how did you get the ring? "

The woman's voice echoed through his mind.

Her questions were still left unanswered by the man, something about him made her wonder if he was guilty of the allegations that were levied against him by the informants.

The ring was found on him quite as alleged, but then he looked too good looking to be accused of such a crime as murder.

It wasn't the beauty of this man that unraveled her but there was something about him, a feeling she got from looking deep into the core of his eyes.

By now, Logan was sitting still— barely hanging,  as though half dead. He was bleeding from everywhere at this point as more heavy blows landed on his swollen face.

With a raised fist from the woman who looked like she was the leader the beating seized.

"Let us start this all over again, Where did you find the ring?"

She was expecting some kind of empathy or at least for him to show some kind pain, instead Logan laughter filled the air.

His laughter was bitter, showing no hint of pain followed by heavy coughing much to the dismay of everyone around.

It had been thirty minutes since they've started torturing him but still he had refused to break, at this point he had gained the respect of most of the men present having gone through the three levels of Mafia torture.