His reply was calm, but inside he raged.
“You did this to yourself, Linda. You’re the one that twatted me over the head and put us in this fucking situation. I will protect my wife to the bitter end, do you understand?”
He wasn’t bluffing. Rage had empowered him.
“Don’t do it, Ed,” his wife sobbed. “It’s not the way.”
Ed ignored her.
“How much skin do I have to flay?”
“I’ll tell you when to stop. Start with the shoulder and work down to the waist. Don’t touch the spine though, we don’t want to do any lasting damage. Not yet anyway.”
Linda too, began to cry.
Fuck you, bitch. You did this to yourself…
So then why was his hand trembling when he reached up to wipe away the sweat that was trickling into his eyes?
Jason pulled out a small, shiny red object from a back pocket of his jeans.
“I prefer a simple, Swiss army knife for flaying. Trust me, it’s so much easier for precise work like this.”
He placed the folded up knife on the table.
“And I know what you’re thinking. No funny business or your wife dies, are we clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Good. Linda, take off your top and bra, stand up and lean over with your palms flat on the table.”
“What? No.”
Jason sighed theatrically. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. I am not adverse to either, but for your sake you should do what you’re told.”
“What do you mean, the hard way? Ed is going to fucking flay me.”
“Do it,” Jason said, his voice steel.
“Wait,” Jaz said.
All eyes fell on her.
“I’m not going to let this happen.”
She lifted up the still-wet dress over her head, revealing her perfect, nude body.
“Jesus Christ Jaz, get dressed right now.”
Jaz ignored him.
“Come on then you bastard, do it. Fuck me.”
“No,” Ed said, lunging for Linda who hadn’t moved from the chair.
His hands circled her neck and squeezed, cutting her off mid-scream. She thrashed beneath his grip but he held grimly on, even when she tried to push herself up using the table top as leverage.
“Get off me,” she managed to gasp.
“I will not let my wife be raped. So what’s it to be? I will either beat you up and flay you, or I will just flay you.”
He let go of her neck with a final, vicious squeeze, and jerked her forwards. Her forehead connected with the table edge with a resounding smack, and for a moment she didn’t move, slouched there with her forehead resting on the table.
She groaned pitifully, but there was no pity to be found in Ed’s heart.
“Ed! What are you doing?”
“For the love of God, Jaz, will you please get fucking dressed.”
Ed went for the army knife. With one hand pinning her face to the table by the back of her neck, he flicked up the blade.
Now Linda was crying in earnest.
“I’m impressed, Edward,” Jason said. “Maybe you really do love your wife after all.”
“Fuck you,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the sobbing woman.
“Don’t hurt me, Ed,” she whimpered. “It doesn’t have to be like this. Oh God, I love you so much.”
Ed lifted up her head by her hair. Once she had been fully righted, he brought her forehead crashing down onto the table. Her entire body jolted like she had been electrocuted. Jaz started screaming and didn’t stop.
“Hush baby, it’s the only way. I haven’t killed her, she’s just out cold. It won’t hurt her now.”
He proceeded to fist the back of the baggy t-shirt she wore and positioned the knife at the collar, readying it to slice downwards through the material.
“No,” his wife screamed, flying at him.
He felt her soft breasts pressing into his back and her hands reaching round to claw at his.
“Stop,” he gasped.
“It’s. Not. Right,” she panted.
She was determined, that was for sure. He could have easily shaken her off but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.
“Enough of this bullshit!”
Jason Jacks had to shout to be heard over Jaz and Ed’s tussle.
Jaz went slack against him and buried her face into his back. He could feel the wetness of her face seeping through his t-shirt and the way her breasts jerked with her sobbing.
“Jazmine, if you want to save Ed from flaying the stupid bitch then get over here right now and bend over the table. And as for you Ed, you have to play by the rules, damn it. If Jazmine chooses to fuck me, then that’s just the way it has to be.”
“That wasn’t the deal! You said that it was my choice. I get to choose whether I flay Linda or you fuck my wife.”
The man shrugged. “If Jaz wants me to fuck her, then who am I to argue?”
“You complete cunt.”
The pressure lifted from his back, and with it any happiness Ed had ever experienced in his thirty-three years of life. There was only sadness now. Sadness and pain. He let go off the scruff of Linda’s neck and she slumped sideways, landing in an ungainly, unconscious heap on the floor.
“Oh, okay then, you win,” he said breezily. “Flay the bitch. But I want at least two long strips running parallel either side of her vertebrae. Come on then, get to work.”
Ed’s heart hammered violently when he crouched over the out-cold woman who was lying on her side. He put her into the recovery position and got to work sawing through her t-shirt. Undressing her would’ve felt too intimate. Beneath the t-shirt she was wore a sturdy looking, dirty white bra. He sawed through the back strap and was assaulted with vivid memories of fighting with this woman’s bra as a teenager. His fingers trembled so badly he dropped the knife.
The realisation smacked him full force in the face.
I can’t fucking do this.
You have to.
Picking up the knife once more, he made a concerted effort to get his nerves under control. Gently, he eased the bra strap off her shoulder. The cup of the bra went slack, but was prevented from completely sliding off her body by her arm which rested atop her breast. He was glad of this, although he didn’t know why it should make a difference, seeing as he was about to flay his fucking ex.
He pushed down slightly on her shoulder so he had a clear run of her back. His hand shook like an arthritic old man’s when he pressed the blade against the soft flesh just to the right of the nape of her neck.
Here goes…
Blood spilled over his white knuckles when he broke the surface of the skin. He swayed on his knees, lightheaded and nauseous.
“Oh God,” he groaned, unable to stop the tide of vomit that surged upwards from his clenching stomach.
Foul tasting vomit spewed forth, splattering his t-shirt and pooling next to him. He closed his eyes for a second, unable to stop the violent trembling that racked his body.
“You dirty bastard,” Jason laughed.
When he had sufficiently composed himself, he looked up.
“No,” he gasped, his overworked heart pounding even harder.
“I’m sorry, it’s for the best,” his wife said in a trembling voice.
Jaz had bent over the table across from him. Her large breasts swung forward, mocking him in their overtly sexual stance that seemed to scream; hey, I’m gonna get fucked and you’re not the one who’s doing the fucking…
“No, I’m going to do it.”
But they both knew it was lie. He couldn’t flay Linda. For the first time since this nightmare had begun, Ed was powerless to stop the sudden rush of tears. They spilled out of him as easily as a wronged two year old’s.