“Before he—”
I cut off, but he gives me a small nod in understanding.
“I told him that I would be the one to end him if he did it, and I want to uphold that promise. I do not want that miserable fuck dying without knowing that I didn’t stick to my word. I do not want him to think in his last moments that I was weak because of what he did.”
He inhales deeply, eyeing me suspiciously before giving a sharp nod. He then glances between Reign and Chaos.
“Do you still object to that?”
Reign turns, and I face him. He cups my cheeks and I wrap my small hands around his wrists as he brings his face down to mine.
“Char, I will stick by whatever the fuck you want to do. But I worry that—”
“That it might damage me? That I might never come back from it?”
His eyes ease, knowing exactly what I am saying, and I give him a gentle smile.
“I am past that point, baby. This is my closure.”
He scans my eyes, trying to find the vulnerability, to see if I am truly ready for this and when he is satisfied with my coldness, he places his lips firmly on my forehead. My eyes close as he lingers and when he releases me, I turn to face Chaos. He offersme a soft smile before sliding his arm around my shoulders and leading me toward the building.
After passing many armed security guards and walking down corridors, we come to a stop at the far end of one, a metal door standing in front of us and Arlo turns, his eyes finding mine.
“I’m not sure how you want to do this. Call me a sick motherfuck because I am, but I am intrigued. Everything is in there, guns, knives etc. If you need any assistance, we are there.”
I give a small nod in understanding, my heart pounding in my chest from the fear, but also the adrenaline pumping through me to finish him. Arlo looks between Chaos and Reign, his hand on the door handle, before he pushes down.
As he enters, I follow behind him and Reign with Chaos behind me. The room is dark, filthy, but huge and exudes a sinister aura with a stench of decay. I continue to follow them as I glance around curiously, noticing guys dressed in black standing in the shadows until they come to stop, which forces me to halt. When they stand aside, their huge structures show a view of Maddox. His arms are bound behind him, and the only lighting in here is shining upon him like a spotlight. He stands out like a fucking trophy, waiting to be killed.
I tilt my head to the side, noticing he is shirtless, a blood-soaked blindfold covers his battered face. He has lost weight; his dark hair is much longer. His tattooed skin bears the scars of brutal torture, showing the suffering he has already endured while being here.
Despite his state, he is alive, his subtle movements betraying his continued existence. I don’t know how to feel in this moment. I always thought I would fear him, but I do not, I can feel my warms veins turning freezing cold with each passing moment.
Before I can even second guess myself, I dash toward him, feeling the guy's eyes on me as I pass them. I continue until I am halting in front of him, my eyes wide, my heart pounding, my palms sweating with anticipation. His head sways from side to side, he is drowsy, but when I place my hands on his shoulders, his body tenses under my touch. I mount him frontally before swiftly pulling the blindfold off his eyes and tossing it to the side.
As soon as his eyes meet mine and he focuses, no emotion changes in him. He just stares at me blankly, clearly unfazed that I am here. I raise my chin in defiance as we scan each other's features before my lips tug into a small sneer.
“Well, hello fiancée.”
His jaw tightens in disdain before he tears his eyes away from mine to look aside, but I merely snatch his bloodied face, making him look into mine once again and I draw closer, biting on my words.
“Oh no, you get to fucking watch what I do to you. That is your punishment.”
When I say the exact words, he said to me the morning he raped me in front of the mirror, his eye twitches, his jaw flexing beneath my fingers as he grinds on his teeth, showing a small sign of the hatred he has for me and the power I have over him right now. I roughly release his face and he keeps it to one side. My wide eyes stay staring at his side-profile, the feelings that are raging through me are insane.
As soon as I spot Arlo coming into view beside me, I pull my eyes away from Maddox, noticing he is standing beside a tray on knives and weapons. They shine against the light, glinting and served on a silver platter like a cutlery set. My eyes scan over each one. A variety. Some standard kitchen knives, some vintage with engravings and some huge like a meat cleaver, but none are what I am looking for. I look at Arlo and elevate my chin as I speak.
“Do you have anything blunt?”
He arches a brow, but he does not question me, he simply raises his hand and I hear movement echoing at the back of the vast space until someone emerges from the shadows and strides in this direction, their heavy footprints loud. With Arlo still with his hand out, he keeps his eyes fixed on Maddox, his jaw tense as if he wants to do the job himself, but unfortunately for him, this one is for me. A guy dressed in black with a balaclava on places something in Arlo’s hand before he presents it to me.
I lift my hand, gently taking the rusted, blunt knife from him. As I gaze down at it, I run my thumb over the damaged surface and when I feel my rush of readiness, I glance up at Arlo.
“You might want to turn away for this.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“I fucking doubt it.”
