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This time I’m not able to hold back the gag. I might not have known him for long, but there’s an instant sibling connection that I can’t deny, and the thought of watching him being sucked off by this whore… pass. He deserves so much better.
I stroke the hand not holding the metal down her silky brown hair. One thing she does right is care for herself. She’d have to working in a place that holds appearance above everything else. No one wants to hire a ratchet whore. Well… no one with enough self-respect and the money to afford it.
She leans into the soothing touch, and I press my temple to hers. “Aw, sweetheart, you are completely mistaken on what’s happening here.” I know she’s dumb, but my actions have her docile for longer than I’m used to.
“Wait… what?” she murmurs in confusion, pulling her head away from mine to try and get a glimpse of me. I step around her and she jolts back in her chair. There’s a satisfying bruise already growing on her cheek from when I punched her earlier, and I can’t wait to add more to it. “You!” she screeches, and I put a finger in the ear closest to her and wiggle it around to help soothe the pain her voice caused.
“Britany, I warned you. I told you to leave my man alone and what do you do? You start talking shit about getting Vander to yourself as though you’d even be able to erase me from his memories.” I sit on her lap sideways and stroke the back of my knuckles down her cheek. Her body instantly bucks trying to throw me off as her head whips to the side. She can’t escape my touch though. “What do you think I should do now that you ignored my gracious warning?”
Her eyes flash with rage, but it’s quickly drowned out by her fear. “Enzo,” she whimpers. “I’m one of your girls. You’re just going to stand there while she threatens me?”
He lets out a deep chuckle. “Brit, you know the rules. I can’t protect you when you’re the one in the wrong. And even if you didn’t do anything, I’m trying to win over my sorella’s affections. She scares me a whole hell of a lot more than you ever could. I need her to love me so she doesn’t decide to kill me if our padre royally ticks her off.“ He gives me a wink.
“Matteo,” she begs, giving a pleading gaze at the man on the left before switching her attention to the other. “Luca?”
“You know we follow the boss’ lead. Plus he makes a solid point on keeping on the good side of the assassin. We tied you up, or did you forget that part?” He gives a humorless laugh.
My eyebrows wiggle up and down with excitement knowing my reputation has preceded me. I bet they wanted a front row seat to my work. Now I almost wish I had some kind of graceful flourish to killing someone. So far each of my kills have been different, but maybe that’s part of the appeal. I’ve never done it the same way more than once.
“I didn’t do anything!” she yells, jerking around even more, testing the bonds holding her to the chair.
“But you did,” Enzo interjects. I can’t decide if I like the interruptions taunting my latest victim or not. Is he doing it because he thinks I can’t handle it on my own? Is it a man thing that his word is weighted heavier than mine? Or is he wanting to join me, to feel like he’s a part of what’s going on right now? I’d like to think it’s the latter, because if it’s either of the first two, then I’ll have to kill him.
He continues on with his explanation. “You were explicitly warned to stay away from Vander, in a way that was much more courteous than I would have been if someone was going after my person. Yet, you decided to ignore it and go after him despite the gracious warning. What makes you think any of the made men would go for one of the whores anyway?” She opens her mouth, and he holds a hand up keeping her from saying a word. “I heard what you said to the other girls. And I don’t appreciate you going against my sorella. If she didn’t want to kill you herself, I’d do it. Nobody goes against the Segreto family.”
A tear streaks down her cheek accompanied by a whimper. I love it when they finally realize their impending death. Terror fills her eyes as they dart between each person in the room. I wipe the tear from her face with the back of a knuckle drawing her attention to me. Knowing she’s watching, I lick the drop of salty liquid and lock my gaze with hers.
She lets out a choked, garbled noise and suddenly, my ass grows warm. I jump to my feet staring at the spot I just vacated, finding a growing wet spot as she pisses herself. Fuck! She got it on my ass. I don’t even think about it before I’m throwing a punch and the metal protecting my knuckles slams into the same cheek I already bruised earlier.
Laughter rings behind me, and I turn on my toes to face them, a death glare aimed at the three men leaning against the wall in various positions. To his credit, Enzo is trying the hardest to hide his amusement. But his friends aren’t as smart. Luca is bent over slapping his knee and Matteo has turned around and is facing the wall, leaning his forehead and banging his fist against it. Fuckers.
“First time having one of them piss their pants? And here I thought you invoked absolute terror in your victims,” Enzo taunts right before choking on a cough.
“Don’t doubt me, brother. It’s not my fault she’s a weak ass bitch. My victims haven’t been as pathetic as her.” I throw my thumb over my shoulder.
“It’s what you get for playing with your food,” Luca throws in.
“I wasn’t!” I object, even though I totally was. The fear is the best part.
“Tell that to your ass,” Matteo cackles, pounding on the wall again as a new bout of laughter threatens to take him to the floor. I’m tempted to help him get there. A swift dick punch should do the trick.
“I need some goddamn pants,” I state, turning around to face the baby.
“Brit won’t be needing any of her clothes anymore. I’m sure she has something you could wear,” Luca offers.
“Fuck no! Why would I want to wear anything that belonged to her? I bet peeing her pants is a normal thing.” I shudder with the thought of wearing her clothes.
He thrusts his chin at the whore and says, “Sooner you finish, the quicker you get new pants and the boys can get rid of the body.”
“Oh, don’t be a fun suck, brother!” I sing-song, prowling around the woman. “Brit Brit wants to live a little longer, don’t you? Even if it is filled with nothing but agony.” My fist slams into her stomach and she lets out a whoosh of air. The pain she’s feeling seems to be fed from the despair weighing me down since the plane. I suddenly feel the slightest bit lighter, which tells me I was right. I need this more than my next breath.
I use both of my fists, even though I only have the brass knuckles for one of them. It doesn’t take long for the knuckles on my other hand to get torn up, cut against her teeth or the sharpness of her cheekbones. Cheers sound from behind me of the men offering a place for me to strike next or letting out sounds when a particularly hard hit lands.
Drool is running from her mouth, mixing with the blood dripping down her cleavage in a trail of pink, and a dazed gleam to her eyes. “Nobody comes for my man, Brit Brit. Too bad you decided to test me on it.” I make another lap around her body, giving soft touches making her flinch. Her soft pixie features are much more attractive now, covered in blood, cuts, and bruises.
Her head hangs forward, chin resting on her chest, lacking all energy to hold it up anymore. She looks so pitiful and close to the end. “I’ve had fun, really, it’s been the best form of therapy, but I’m afraid you won’t last much longer, so I want to say one last thing.” I grab a fistful of her hair and lift her head back so I can gaze at the mess I’ve made of her face. “Nevermore.”
And then I slam my fist into her face one more time, a sweet, wet crunch sounding out as her head tips back. Her eyes are already completely swollen shut, so I’m not able to see if there’s a vacant gaze staring back at me.
