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His bare chest comes into view, and he watches me carefully as he tries to work out what I’m about to do next.
A laugh claws its way up my throat, and for a moment I pause to consider the idea that I’ve finally lost my mind, and hell, that may very well be the case, but I really don’t care.
“Part of me wishes you would be forced to live with these scars, but I’m glad after tonight you’ll never breathe the same air as another woman again. You don’t deserve to live. You don’t deserve to take another breath.”
I force air into my lungs and for my hands to steady around the shard of glass. My own blood drips onto his bare chest, and I make a mental note to be careful I don’t get his blood on any of my wounds because I don’t want to catch anything from this asshole.
I bring the glass toward his chest and don’t hesitate to carve into his skin. I relish in the way he thrashes and how it makes him bleed more. I bask in the knowledge his life will end any moment now at my hands. But I don’t allow any of it to distract me from what I’m doing.
I slice into his skin over and over again. It’s surprisingly easy to write a word in someone’s flesh, so I decide, why stop at one?
Rapist.
Sick fuck.
Cunt.
Kidnapper.
Trafficker.
Word after word, I write, and there’s a part of me that feels infinitely lighter as each one appears on his chest.
His screams come out as gurgles, but I pay him no mind. I’m surprised he’s even lasted this long between the blood loss and the pain, but I’m glad he has.
I want him to be dragged to hell, kicking and screaming in agony because he deserves no peace. Not after all he’s done.
I sit back and look at my handy work. I’m impressed with what I’ve been able to achieve with my hands bound in front of me, but now it’s time to end this.
“As fun as this has been, Kyle, I have places to be. A busy man like you understands, I’m sure.” I parrot his sentiment from earlier. “Enjoy your trip to the pits of hell.”
His eyes widen as I reach for the glass in his neck and drag them both from his throat, watching as blood gushes down his bare chest and over the words I carved into his flesh.
The life fades from his eyes, but I don’t move until I’m sure he’s dead. Until I know for a fact he’s dead and there’s nothing that can bring him back, closing a chapter of my life I wish I could forget, and opening the one I’ve longed for my whole life.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
ACE
The car has barely stopped when I throw myself out of it, the need to get to Mia stronger than my own sense of safety. I hear Elijah scoff as I slam the door shut behind me and move toward the spun-out car in the middle of the intersection.
Rayne and Storm climb out of their SUV as I run toward the scene of the crash, completely ignoring the other driver. He’s mostly in the right, apart from the fact he was speeding and may have killed my reason for breathing, but I don’t have the time to give a fuck about him.
The closer I get to the car Mia was in, the more dread moves over my body, grasping me around the throat until I can barely breathe.
What if she’s hurt? Or worse?
What if I didn’t get to her quickly enough?
What if she’s not in the car?
There are a million what-ifs filtering through my mind, and all of them have an uneasiness settling over me.
The driver’s side door swings open, and Rayne draws his gun with a trained precision I’m sure he’s used repeatedly in his line of work, but right now I’m grateful for it.
There’s only one seat I’m certain Mia’s not in, and it’s the door that’s just opened.
Todd climbs from the car, his hands up in a sign of surrender. “I’m not armed.”
