Page 15 of Hellhound AU

“What thefuckis going—” Greg started, but he didn’t finish, because I pulled a taser out of my pocket and shot him with it.

“Isaidwe’re in themiddleof a conversation,Greg, so maybe shut the fuck up.”

Greg had indeed shut the fuck up, aside from some moaning, because he was currently writhing around on the floor.

“Ohh, a taser,” Rowan said, like he was all excited to see a new toy.

“No guns, but tasers are okay?”

“Yup!” he answered. “Guns hurt. Tasers are fun.”

With that, he walked over, plucked the electrodes out of Greg, who whimpered, and then he hit the guy on the head, causing all noises and thrashing to stop.

“What did you do?!”

“I didn’t kill him!” Rowan defended. “He’s just unconscious!"

I sighed. “Fine. Help me get him into the other room. Kitchen, you think?”

“Is there a basement?” Rowan asked.

And so we found ourselves in a basement with an unconscious man (who Rowan had carried downstairs) taped to a kitchen chair (which Rowan had also carried down).

“I hate this part,” Rowan mumbled as soon as Greg started to sort of moan and roll his head a bit.

I looked at him. He looked… awkward. Like a guy standing at a party who didn’t know anyone.

“For fuck’s sake, Rowan, you look like you’re at a middle school dance. We’re here to torture the guy, not ask him for a slow dance.”

The guy groaned, and he must have heard the torture thing (sorry, not sorry), because he started babbling.

“I swear I didn’t know how old he was. He said he was eighteen, and everything was totally consensual. I don’t know what he told you—”

“He wasn’t eighteen, though, was he?” I asked. Obviously Greg the dickhead had more than Ray-bear to atone for.

The guy started crying and blubbering then, something about how much “he wanted it” and that he had no way of knowing thekid was only thirteen. I was totally disgusted, and I motioned to Rowan to do something about him.

So Rowan walked over and snapped his neck.

Okay, then. Not what I was expecting.

I sighed. “I meant for you to shut him up.”

“He isn’t talking anymore,” Rowan said, scratching his beard.

“No shit.”

“He was a really bad man,” Rowan announced. “I wouldn’t have killed him otherwise.”

“Yeah, but I would’ve liked to have made him suffer a bit first.”

“Oh. I thought the gesturing meant you wanted me to deal with him. I’m sorry.”

Well, at least he was sorry. I stared at the dead body of Greg the dickhead. “I hate this part.” I really did. Disposal wassucha pain in the ass.

“Oh. That’s okay. Why don’t you go wait outside and I’ll deal with the body,” Rowan offered.

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” I walked over, gave him a peck on the cheek, which made my ginger giant blush adorably, and then I headed up the stairs.