Page 79 of I’m The Worst

The fury that consumes me is blinding.

I rip my arms forward with everything I have. The cuffs shred through my flesh. Blood sprays. I don’t feel it. I lunge, chains dangling from my wrists, and wrap them around his thick neck from behind. He drops to his knees, grabbing at the metal, face turning purple. AJ’s screaming, rocking her chair so desperately it scrapes farther across the floor.

With a grunt, he flips me over his shoulder. My head slams into the concrete. A white-hot shock wave of pain knocks the breath from my lungs. Pushing through the haze, I roll away as his boot stomps where my skull was. I swing the dangling cuffs like a whip before he can react. Metal cracks against the side of his face. Bone shatters. Blood sprays.

He staggers.

I don’t stop.

I hit him again. And again.

His nose caves with a wet crunch.

His cheekbone collapses under the next blow.

I grab the back of his head with both hands and slam his face into the concrete floor over and over and over. Blood and teeth scatter across the floor. The wet, meaty sound of bone shattering fills the room.

I’m not done.

I turn him over and rip the knife from his belt, severing both wrists. Discarding his hands next to his body.

That’s for fucking touching her.

His garbled, barely alive moans fill the air. I look down at his exposed, half-hard cock, and renewed rage flood my senses.

I grab his dick with one bloody hand, yank it taut, and saw the knife through it in one savage motion. Blood sprays in thick arcs. He screams—a high, gurgling sound. I drop the mutilated cock on the floor next to his twitching body.

That’s for trying to rape her.

He convulses, eyes wide with shock and agony, blood pouring from the stump between his legs in pulsing gushes. I watch him bleed out for a second, then drive the knife into his throat to finish him off, twisting until the light goes out of his eyes.

Chest heaving, I stand over the mess, blood dripping from my torn wrists and arms. My left shoulder is throbbing. My head is spinning.

I turn to AJ. “Are you okay?”

She doesn’t answer. Just stares at me, eyes wide as she trembles.

“AJ! Are you fucking okay?”

She finally gives a shaky nod.

I cross the room and start ripping at the shackles around her ankles, my blood smearing everywhere. The second her legs are free, she throws her naked body against me, arms wrapping tight around my neck like I’m the only thing left in the world. She’s sobbing so hard, her breaths shuddering.

My good arm goes around her, covering her as much as I can.

Fuck. Fuck.

Knowing what I need to do, I reach across my body, grip my left wrist, clench my jaw, and yank hard. The pop is loud. White-hot pain explodes through my shoulder as the joint slams back into place. I roll it once, testing it, fresh blood welling from the torn skin around the cuffs.

“Wolff!” she cries out.

My gear and weapons are gone, but I spot her clothes nearby. I grab them and shove them into her arms. “Get dressed. Now.”

Her hands are shaking so violently that she can barely get her pants on. I scan the room again, listening for footsteps, looking for anything to use, trying to ignore the way the room is tilting.

My head is fucked.

Vision fuzzy at my peripherals. Ears ringing. Every sound feels jarring. A goddamn concussion…a bad one. The room keeps shifting like I’m drunk.