Page 105 of Mine To Hunt

"Please." He rasped, struggling harder. "If this is about money, I don’t have anything on me. You can check. Just take it and let me go."

I tilted my head. "Money?" I echoed calmly.

He swallowed, eyes darting. "I… I didn’t do anything. I swear. I don’t even know you."

"No." I said. "You don’t."

Confusion twisted his face. "Then why? Why are you doing this? Tell me what I did."

A pause. Then, quiet and deliberate. "You touched her."

He blinked, searching his memory frantically. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t…"

His expression shifted from confusion to dawning horror.

"She was just…" He stopped himself too late.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

"Just what?" I asked.

His voice broke. "I didn’t know. I didn’t know she was with someone. I didn’t know she was yours. I swear to God, if I had known…"

"That’s the problem." I murmured. "You didn’t know. Yet…"

He started crying, real panic setting in. "Please. I won’t ever look at her again. I don’t even remember her face. I’ll leave the city. I’ll disappear. Just tell me what you want."

I crouched in front of him, meeting his eyes.

"I want you to understand something." I said quietly. “You don’t put your hands on what’s mine.”

His breathing turned ragged. "She doesn’t belong to you. She’s not property…"

The slap cut him off. His head lolled to the side. When he looked back at me, terror had replaced confusion completely.

"You’re insane." He whispered.

"No, you’re wrong." I corrected softly. "I’m devoted."

He shook his head frantically. "This is crazy. I didn’t do anything worth this. You’re doing this over some girl?"

His pleas stirred no pity, only mild amusement at his inferiority. "She is not'some girl.'She is mine. You touched her. That hand is forfeit."

His immediate tears and snot only heightened my sense of detachment as I began the correction. Sawing through his wrist with the knife, skin yielding like damp tissue, muscles tearing wetly, tendons snapping sharply, bone grating under pressure, each sensation amplified my controlled adrenaline.

Blood pulsing in arcs with his heartbeat, his screams echoing, all of it a symphony of justified reclamation. He wailed louder: "Stop! Please, God, stop! I'll do anything!"

I proceeded. "This hand offended. It pays now."

Cutting it off fully, holding it up for his terrified stare, I felt a wave of owning triumph. I tied a tight band around his arm to stop the heavy bleeding, but first I poured salt into the raw wound, the sharp sting making him scream and twist wildly.

This kept him alive longer, stretching out my cold pleasure in the act. "It hurts! Oh God, it hurts! Just kill me, please!"

Shoving cocaine down his throat, seeing him gag and shake, made the thrill grow, not from the killing, but from wiping out a stain on what I own.

Foam bubbled from his mouth, eyes rolling back, his jerks showing my total power. “I suggest you learn the difference between what you can touch… and what will get you killed.” I said calmly. "This teaches you the difference."

The rush hits its high, buzzing and clear, not just violence but a high from guarding my prize. Every slice, yell, and blood drop was a claim on Iris, proving my strength and rule.