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He would never show or admit it, but I knew my behavior bothered him.
The thing with Luce was that his facial expressions never gave jack shit away unless he wanted them to. He’d always had a tight rein on his emotions. His father had made sure of that. He was the serious one. I was laid back. Our friendship balanced out that way.
Life was fucked-up sometimes. As of late, ours especially. Even through the pain I tried to find reasons to laugh. Lately, that was harder to do than it used to be. This new me didn’t have the ability to make Luce understand that I’d never blamed him for what happened.
I couldn’t—wouldn’t—hold him responsible for what was done. I hated that I was one of the first rea
l casualties on his path to claiming what was rightfully being given to him.
If I had been in his position, I’d have made the same exact choice he did. We had our Belladonna back because of it.
I had plenty of rage and pain to go around, but none of it was for him. It was for me. It was for the brother I lost. It was for the girl I thought I once loved who never loved me. It was for my mother’s broken heart and the sister I may not ever see again.
These feelings were constant. It was as if a searing hot coal had been jammed inside my chest. It refused to be cooled or extinguished, throbbing constantly, every hour of the day.
I hurriedly entered the code to the playroom and slipped inside, inhaling deeply the second I was in. Admittedly, I found the smell of decay soothing, but that wasn’t why I had rushed to be here.
I was here for the person I’d left tied up with his arms stretched above his head.
The right one had nearly healed, permanently crooked from the way it had been broken.
I hardly recognized him anymore, but then he probably couldn’t recognize me either. Funny how the tables had turned. Butcher was now the butchered.
“Did you miss me while I was gone?” I asked.
Something garbled came from behind his gag. I walked over and pulled the gauze band down.
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
His good eye rolled to focus on where I stood in front of him.
“Kill…me,” he rasped, the words carrying through severely cracked lips.
“Glady. After you tell me where my sister is.”
A pained wheezing sound came from his chest. It could have been caused by a variety of reasons.
The lung I’d cracked just that morning. He was getting sick. Or because he was a weak bastard who couldn’t withstand the torture he’d been subjected to.
“My sis—”
I covered his mouth before he could finish speaking, a familiar fury rising within me as I stared at his battered face. I couldn’t hear him talk about Lilith like he gave a shit. It was almost enough to push me over the edge and tear his spine through his throat. He was the reason she was gone.
Him and that psychotic fucker Samael. I leaned close and grabbed hold of his jaw, speaking each word firmly.
“You no longer have a sister. You no longer have a family. You have no one. You are nothing.”
He protested with a muffled snarl.
“How about this, Butch. You continue where we left off earlier. Tell me where I can find Samael, and I’ll end what’s left of your sorry fucking existence. Blink if you understand.”
He closed his eye and didn’t open it again. His way of refusing.
“Yeah. I thought you’d say that.” I patted his grime-smeared cheek, feeling how hollow it was beneath a heavy overgrowth of facial hair.
“Until I get my baby sister back, I’m going to make every breath you take excruciating.”
I stepped away from him and surveyed the room. I’d already doled out a ton of cruel and unusual techniques to make him speak.
