“You said you’d spare me,” he cries. “No, I didn’t.” I pull him by his shirt and breathe against his blood-and-sweat-stained face. “Here’s how it will go, motherfucker. I’ll punch you until you lose consciousness like your friend here, then I’ll waterboard you to consciousness and do it all over again. I’ll torture you for every mark you left on her skin. By the time I’m done with your sorry excuse of an existence, you’ll wish for death.”
