“The truth. Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll make your death swift.”
“You won’t get away with this. The Exodus will turn against you if you kill one of their members outside of the Reckoning.”
With a hum, I slip out the blade before pressing it into his thigh and dragging it down his leg, splitting the skin open to reveal sinew and flesh.
No one flinches at the raw, tortured screams bouncing off the walls. No one moves an inch.
“As you can tell, Beaumont, I’m beyond fucking caring about the Exodus or the repercussions of cutting your dick from your body. You should be more concerned about what I’ll do to you before I end your miserable life. You see, we have Pawns stationed to ensure no one disturbs us until I’m done with you. And by done, I mean you’re unrecognizable and in countless pieces.”
Blood bubbles from the deep gash in his thigh, so I order one of the Pawns to put pressure on the wound while I debate my options. I could torture him for hours until he loses consciousness and then wait for him to wake up before doing it again. Alternatively, I could fuck him up now and return to Cecilia. God knows I want to teach her a lesson she won’t soon forget for lying to me and meeting up with Beaumont.
The mere thought has me sliding out the corkscrew attachment and ramming it into Beaumont’s eyeball.Violence it is.His endless wailing drowns out the squelching sound, but it does little to soothe the war inside me. Nothing but complete destruction can touch the madness oozing from my every pore.
I yank the corkscrew out. “What involvement did my wife have in your plan?”
“Nothing.”
I jab him in the side with the weapon, driving it deep, and blood rushes to the surface, soaking into the bedspread. I pull it out, and then I do it again and again, stabbing him where I know it’ll hurt like a motherfucker but also keep him alive until the beast inside me grows bored. When I finally come up for air, he looks like pale, sweaty Swiss cheese.
As I round the bed, I flip out the scissors. “I want you to start from the beginning and tell me everything.”
And he does.
While I snip the skin between each finger and toe, he screams, jumbles his words, and pleads for his life. But he also sings like a lark.
“You don’t look so good,” I point out as I reach for the wooden stake with my bloodied fingers. “It would be a shame if you passed out on me now. We don’t want you to miss all the fun we’re yet to have.”
He struggles to focus on me with his one good eye, croaking, “Kill me. You promised?—”
Feeling the stake’s weight in my hand, I tsk. “Looks like we both lie.”
The others haven’t spoken, silently observing this unhinged, crazed version of myself. It makes me laugh to see blood coating every inch of my hands. My shirt is stained with it, too. Hell, I can smell it smeared on my face.
My smile falls. “You were going to rape my wife after you had finished beating her for your own damn amusement.”
“No, that’s not?—”
“Don’t lie. You were going to stick your filthy dick inside her.”
His head shakes weakly as he sobs, pleading with me. “No?—”
Another scream erupts from his cracked lips when I ram the splintered end of the stake inside his rectum, shredding him to pieces. “Let’s see how you like it.”
The veins in my blood-splattered forearms pop as I violate him with the stake. I don’t feel anything besides this blinding fury that burns me up from the inside. I’m so damn numb; nothing except my wife’s tight pussy has the power to resurrect me from the ashes.
After I rip the blood and shit-soaked stake from his ass, I throw it down beside him. He’s barely conscious as I carve into him with the knife, but that doesn’t stop me from skinning him alive or removing his inner organs, one by one, and placing them around his body.
By the time Sinclair finally clears his throat with an arched brow, I’ve got Beaumont’s heart in one hand after prying his chest cavity open. He jerks his chin for the others to leave, and they sidle out. Elijah smirks at me before disappearing out the door.
Sinclair approaches me with a careful air about him. “He’s dead, Darian.”
I stare at the carnage before me, unblinking and uncomprehending. I never lose control like this, never give in to the terrifying darkness, yet here I am, with a man’s innards pooling around my expensive, polished shoes and his heart clutched in my palm.
Sinclair puts his big hand on my shoulder. “Cutting him into pieces won’t bring your family back.”
The heart trembles in my grip as I look him in the eye, lost and alone.
“It won’t bring you answers.”
