Nic in the Nick

"Who's on the payroll?" Andy asked.

"I can't tell you that they'd..." Blain screamed again as the hammer smashed teeth and lips.

"They'd do nothing worse than I'm going to do right now if you don't tell me." Andy said coldly, while admiring his handiwork. "Names, now."

Spitting blood and fragments of teeth Blain named names. Not just small fry, these were people of power and influence, with allegedly clean reputations.

Andy looked at the pathetic creature in front of him who had created so much terror and pain. "Why did Amanda bite you?" Andy asked, changing the subject back to what he was really interested in.

"I don't know, she said she was into it but maybe not..." Blain really had no answer, he didn't know himself.

"You said you made her cum?" Andy asked.

"Yes." Blain said.

"What was special about it?" Andy asked.

"Special how?" Blain could barely think let alone answer riddles.

"Did she yell, did she squirt, did she convulse?" Andy asked, thinking please don't say she squirted.

"No, she just squeezed, sort of convulsing I suppose." Blain was wary of where this was going.

"She played you for a sucker." Andy said. "She always squirted when she came, great gushes of it, so she faked it for you." Andy watched Blain's expression with satisfaction. "We did anal fairly often as a change, she didn't love it but also didn't hate it so all she wanted to do was get you vulnerable." Andy laughed, a mean sounding noise. "You had her tied up and she still beat you."

Blain was shocked. She had got him, so badly he had not had sex since, had it all been part of her plan?

"Did they fix your dick?" Andy asked.

"Yes, well they think so, I haven't been able to use it since..." Blain's words tailed off. He looked at Andy and suddenly knew he was fucked.

"You will get the death penalty if you kill me." Blain said in desperation.

"You know something?" Andy asked, sounding a bit dreamy. "I think that might just be the best way of being with her again."

Blain looked in horror. "Oh fuck no." He mumbled.

Andy picked up a knife and approached.

"No." Blain mumbled.

"Let's see her handy work." Andy said and cut Blains pants and underwear off him. There was a bit of blood on Blain's leg after Andy slipped once during the process but eventually Blain's soiled clothes were on the floor and the pathetic, small cock with the horrific scars was on display.

"Good job." Andy said. "Now I'm going to finish it."

"No, please no," Blain was petrified. He was in pain and exposed with the threat to his life becoming more real every moment. "one hundred million, I can give you one hundred..."

Blain's last understandable words were an attempt at the biggest bribe he had ever made, but Andy slipped a gag into his mouth and pulled it tight. Andy looked at the pathetic figure, struggling feebly.

"This is not about money," he said callously, "it is about revenge. An eye for an eye and a life for a life, and somebody must die for the death of my wife." He was singing the lines from "I did what I did for Maria" as he reached for the paint stripper and painted it onto Blain's cock and balls.

The pain must be pretty extreme, Andy thought, as he watched the broken man in front of him struggle and listened to his muffled screams.

Blain's pain was so intense he lost the ability to think about anything else. It mounted until he fainted and sometime after that he woke again to a splash of water on his face. He looked to see Andy pissing on him.

"You deserve this for every girl you have raped." Said Andy, as he zipped up and reached again for the paint stripper. "And I will make you suffer for as long as possible."

For most of the night Blain was in and out of consciousness, the pain and horror never far away, as Andy found new places to put the paint stripper, and continued to apply it where Blain was most sensitive as well as removing more hair with the thinners and fire trick.

Sometime in the early hours of the morning Blain's heart gave out and he finally died.

Andy looked at the shattered remains of what had once been a human being and felt no pity, just satisfaction and contempt.

He went to work, setting up the final phase of his plan.

Chapter 9 – The next natural progression.

When Andy walked into the police station that afternoon to turn himself in for murder he had copied the tape he had made and sent it to a number of lawyers with instructions starting with "In the event of my death."

He had planted the body where exposure was certain and the humiliating torture would be obvious and well publicized. The severed penis would never be found and Blain would be cremated without that little bit of flesh that caused so many problems.

Andy's affairs were in order, they had been for a couple of months, and he had now left a lawyer the job of explaining what was going on.

Andy watched the home sex tape he and Amanda had made one last time before destroying it, it made him sad but her spectacular orgasm gave him some consolation, this was something special she had managed to keep just between them.

He was almost ready to join Amanda.

Andy had considered suicide but decided he could further humiliate Blain Fury's memory by the publicity of a trial, but he did not want to risk getting a life sentence, he wanted the death penalty. There was nothing worth living for now.

Four months after the death of Blain Fury Eric walked the familiar steps up to Billie's house. This time, however, her father Jack answered the door.

"Whaddaya want?" Jack asked rudely.

Eric was taken back a bit. He had met Jack on a few occasions and he had been civil, if not friendly. Jack was a paunchy, balding ex truck driver who couldn't work now because of a claimed bad back. Billie's mother had left a long time ago and had not bothered to explain why, she had just said, "I won't be back." and walked out before Jack could react.

"I, um, I'm here to pick Billie up." Eric said.

"No you're not," Jack said aggressively, "my daughter can do better than go out with a no hoper mechanic who works for a murderer." Jack swayed on his feet and Eric thought, I need to be careful here, he's been drinking.

"Andy has not been to trial yet." He said calmly.

"Yeah but he admitted it." Jack said, swaying a bit more.

"He's pleading not guilty." Eric replied, keeping his voice even.

"He's a no good piece of shit, just like you, now fuck off." Jack said and started to close the door.

Eric put his foot in the way.

"What does Billie think?" He asked coldly.

Jack said, "She's got no say and neither have you, you're just hanging around hoping to get in her pants and that's never gonna happen, now get out of my house."

Eric thought about the many times he and Billie had made love, after that first time in the car, but was smart enough not to say anything. It was not like she was under age or anything, but still don't poke the bear.

"I'm not going until I see Billie." He said flatly.

Jack opened the door partly then slammed it on Eric's foot. "Get the fuck out before I throw you out." Jack yelled.

Eric's foot hurt like hell but he didn't move it. Jack pulled the door open again and when it was near Jack's body, just ready to slam again Eric threw his full weight against it. Jack, unprepared and off balance any way, was pushed a few steps back and he tripped, falling onto his back and getting winded in the process. While he was gasping for air Eric walked in and looked around.

"Billie," he called, "where are you?"

"She don't want to see you." Jack wheezed behind him.

"What have you done to her?" Eric asked, turning menacingly.

Jack had been trying to get up but stopped, suddenly realizing he could get hurt.

"Nothin' but what a father's gotta do to keep a girl out of trouble." He answered a little nervously.

Eric walked down the hall opening doors until he found Billie's bedroom. She was on the bed crying when he walked in.

"Are you OK?" Eric asked.

Billie looked up and Eric saw she had a black eye. Wordlessly he turned to go back to Jack.

"No Eric, don't do it," Billie begged, "he's not worth it."

Eric thought about what he had been going to do and realized she was right. He stopped and turned back to Billie.

"Pack your things," he said, "you're leaving."

Billie cried some more. "I can't, he's my dad."

Eric ran his finger over the bruising. "You can," he said gently, "do you want to live with his kind of loving or my kind of loving?"

Eric didn't give her an option, he found a couple of sports bags in her wardrobe and started putting things into it. Out in the hall Jack was yelling obscenities.

"Help me before this gets ugly." Eric said to Billie.

Billie started to shove clothes and things into another bag.

Outside there was a crash and the sound of breaking glass.

Billie emptied a drawer into another bag and looked at Eric.

"That's it," she said, "are you sure you want me like this?"

"I want you no matter what." Eric replied.

They walked out through the wreckage of the hall, then out the front to see Jack hitting Eric's car with a baseball bat. He had broken a headlight and damaged a fender and door, but he was too drunk to get many good hits.

Jack saw them come out and yelled out "Don't you fucking abduct my daughter." He lurched toward Eric, lifting the bat as he went. Eric, holding two bags could not do much except dodge, which he did, and he planted a shoe on Jack's leg. Screaming abuse Jack went down again, into a garden bed.

"I hope they're roses." Eric muttered.

Eric and Billie put her bags in the car and looked around as a neighbor approached.

"Get her out of here," he said to Eric, "we'll look after the drunken bastard and make sure there is no problem."

"Thanks." Eric said. He got into the car next to Billie and they drove away.

They had driven for about ten minutes before Billie broke the silence

"Where are we going?" She asked quietly.

"My house." Eric replied.

"House?" Billie asked, remembering the dingy single bedroom apartment Eric had shown her just once.

"I had a talk with a lawyer this week," Eric explained, "and Andy has given me his house, he has no relatives and does not want any assets. It is mortgaged but not too much, you are going to love it, and it's got..."

"Are you joking?" Billie asked, hope suddenly alive again.

"I'm not joking, my love, why would I?" Eric replied.

Billie thought for a moment and then said, "I'll get job and make sure I do my share."

Eric looked at her "Are you good with figures?" He asked.

"I was in the top ten percent of my math class last year." Billie answered proudly.

"And dealing with people?" Eric asked.

"Not until this goes away." Billie said, pointing at the partially closed, bruised, eye.

They both thought about her injury and the consequences they now faced.

"He didn't do anything else to you?" Eric asked, worried about the answer he was going to get. "We could go to the Police..."

"Nothing else," Billie reassured Eric, "he just took a wild swing and managed to connect."

They smiled. There were issues to deal with, bridges to cross, but they were both fully aware of just how much worse it could have been.

Eric thought back to the previous subject.

"You're hired," he said, "but you have to start Monday."

"What do you mean?" Billie asked, confused.

"Andy gave me the business too, as well as learning the panel beating I used to do all the bookwork and customer stuff too. Now I need someone to do the office work while I do the cars. I'm doing more custom work now, you know, hot rods and stuff..."

Billie suddenly realized what all this meant. Her father had tried to tell her Eric was a no hoper who would never come to anything but here he was with the opportunity to make it big at his age. And he needed her help, they could do it together. She squealed and leaned over and kissed Eric on the face. He swerved a bit and there was a chorus of angry horns voicing their disapproval at something out of the ordinary.

Eric got the car back under control and said "Easy does it, we want to make it home don't we?"

Billie giggled. "I'm just so happy." She smiled a huge smile at Eric.

"Does this house have a double bed?" She asked, a naughty grin showing her meaning.

"Yes." Eric answered, feeling the movement in his pants at the thought of that question.

Billie looked down and saw his penis rising. "I hope it's strong." She said.

Eric just smiled and concentrated on driving.

"Does it have a big yard?" Billie asked still smiling.

"Actually, yes, it's very big." Eric said.

"Ooh goody," Billie squealed, "can we get a puppy?"

"What sort would you like?" Eric asked.

The people behind reached for the horn again as the battered car swerved off course once more.

Chapter 10 – Due process.

Andy Silk's murder trial ended up being a bit of a farce. Against the advice of the frustrated public defender appointed to represent him, he had pleaded innocent to murder but his only defense was Blain deserved it as he had raped and murdered Andy's wife, Amanda. The Judge pointed out that there was no evidence of this, and that even if it were true this was not a reason to take the law into your own hands. Andy had said the police were aware of the facts but had covered it up due the influence Blain Fury had had both inside and outside the force. All of a sudden a lot of senior police wanted the trial rushed through without too much publicity. There were still a lot of people who could be implicated if too much came out.

Andy did not call any witnesses and the only witness called by the prosecution was a doctor who explained the extent of Blains injuries and described the torture he must have suffered. The jury, sickened by this description, and more than a little upset by the fact that Andy seemed proud of his actions, took less than a day to find him guilty of aggravated murder, kidnapping and a myriad of other charges.

There was more influence applied prior to sentencing, but even without it the result would have been the same. Andy Silk was sentenced to death by lethal injection. He then got up and advised the court that he wished to waive any right of appeal and they should just "get it over with".

The system, suddenly concerned with just how much he knew and what damage he could do to precious careers, was all too happy to concur.

Joel Simpson, commonly called "Homer" behind his back, was the Chief warder in the prison that housed Andy on death row. Andy first came to his attention from the fact that he came in with virtually no publicity and then nothing was heard of him. There were no protestations of innocence, there were no lawyers screaming for more time to consult with their client, even the anti death penalty protesters seemed to had let this one go through to the catcher. A couple of months later Joel was talking to a warder named Trevor Humphrey, who Joel thought of as "Bogey" behind his back, when Andy's name came up.

"That feller due for execution next week, Vince Obsidian, has asked to spend some time with that Silk character Joel, you know the one that necked Blain Fury?" Trevor said.

"Why?" Joel asked, thinking Bogey must have something else to say about this or he would not have brought it up.

"It's something a few of them ask for now," Trevor said, "he was able to calm that Robbins prick down before his, and Carlton too, he just seems to have the touch." Homer is either going to go for this or shut it down real quick, thought Trevor.

Joel thought about it, wondering what Bogey was up to. "Is he some sort of religious freak?" He asked. It was well known to all the warders on death row that inmates, faced with the imminent prospect of meeting God, would go to all sorts of length try and get divine forgiveness for actions they had not been able to get legal forgiveness over.

No doubt about Homer, thought Trevor, he cuts to the quick. "No Joel, it's not religion, but this Silk is sort of, um, peaceful? Serene? He knows he is going to die soon and he seems to welcome the chance."

Joel asked, "Why do they want to talk to him then?"

Trevor explained, "He seems to calm them, help them come to terms with what's happening." I think Homer will say yes, he thought.

"Positive points?" Joel asked.

"Less unrest and anxiety in the block." Trevor answered candidly.

"Negative points?" Joel asked.

"None until Silk takes the walk, then major unrest." Trevor answered just as candidly.

Joel thought for a minute. Silk was resigned to his fate, maybe he could be used to stop any eventual unrest himself.

"Do it Trevor," Joel said, "let him have a couple of hours a day if needed." Always take any help you can get in this game he thought.

"Sure boss," Trevor answered, thinking that went well, "I'll set it up starting tomorrow."

"One more thing." Joel said as Trevor turned to go.

"Yeah?" Homer's not going to change his mind I hope, thought Trevor.

"I want to interview Silk," Joel said, "my office fifteen hundred tomorrow, allow two hours."

Trevor was surprised, but didn't show it, Homer usually doesn't get that involved before the date is set, he thought.

"Sure." Trevor said, and left.

Not a bad guy that Homer, thought Trevor.

Not a bad guy that Bogey, thought Joel.

Chapter 11 – A short friendship blooms.

Andy was escorted into Joel's office by two guards at three o'clock the next afternoon. His hands were cuffed in front of him and a short hobble was around his ankles. The guards sat him in the chair and left.

Joel looked up. "I'm Joel Simpson," he said by way of an introduction, "and I run this place."

Andy held Joel's gaze. "I know." He answered

Joel waited a while before continuing.

"I have a nine mill Browning. It's loaded and within easy reach." He was being very matter of fact. "I know where it is, you don't."

"You must get some pretty desperate guys in this chair," Andy replied, "but, as I recall, it was you that wanted to see me, not the other way 'round."

Joel laughed. "You're right, Silk, I wanted to talk to you." He said easily. "But I still have to go through the spiel. No offence intended."

Andy looked at the man in front of him. About the mid fifties he guessed, five eleven, carrying a bit of extra weight. A full head of hair but gray around the temples. The laugh lines were real and indicated an easier life before this post.

"No offence taken." Andy replied, and meant it.

Joel studied Andy Silk. He did not have the criminal look that many who sat in that chair had. A normal sort of guy who seems quite young, maybe early to mid thirties, and yes Bogey was right, he has a relaxed, peaceful look to him.

"Do you want to die?" Joel asked, meaning to shock.

"Yes, I do." Andy's matter of fact answer shocked Joel. He decided to try another approach.

"Do you deserve to die?" He asked.

Andy thought for a few moments. "My peers seem to think so." He replied. "They call what I did murder."

"What do you call it?" Joel asked.

"Execution." Andy answered. "Pretty much the same job that you do here, you know, making the world safe for all the innocent people."

"Blain Fury was never convicted, there was no evidence, and you're just trying to justify being a vigilante." Joel observed. Andy was not getting upset, in fact he looked like he was enjoying the discussion.

"Blain Fury would never have been convicted, he had friends in high places." Andy said. "He did, however, confess his crimes to me and he did name names."

Joel sat up straight, his attention complete. "You have names?" He asked incredulously. "Names of people Blain Fury had in his pocket?"

"Yes." Andy answered simply.

"You must give them to the police, they will see justice is served and your death sentence could be commuted to life." Joel said.