Page 52 of Redeeming Violet

“Healthy,” Cutter answered.

Violet finally came into view, stepping around Cutter’s side. Two black eyes, one almost swollen shut, a cut lip, and a bruised cheek.

“Healthy?” I barked. “That is motherfucking far from goddamned healthy.”

“Jaxon?” she whispered. Her tear-stained cheeks were breaking my heart. I couldn’t do this. Not now. I didn’t want her to witness what was about to happen. She didn’t need to see what kind of monster I truly was.

I stepped in front of her and kissed her forehead. “Vi, you’re safe with Cutter. Go with him and we’ll be right behind you.”

“Please don’t leave me,” she cried.

“It’s okay. Go with him.” I pushed her away and looked at Cutter. “Take her.”

“Please Jaxon. Please come with me.”

I could not listen to her beg.

“Fucking take her,” I shouted.

I turned my back, even though she was begging me not to. With a sharp whistle I got Linc and Declan’s attention. They both made their way to my location. Our backs against the cinderblock exterior wall of the building wasn’t necessarily the safest place to be. Not knowing who was inside or what type of artillery they had, it was paramount we move. Entering an uncleared sector is always one of the most dangerous parts of an op. We didn’t know what waited for us just inside the room.

Seeing Violet had broken the last sliver of humanity I had left. Hearing her beg me not to leave her was like a thousand shards of glass piercing my heart. She couldn’t be here. I couldn’t bear to look at her. There was no way I could hide the revenge I planned to deliver from her. I needed her safely away from me.

Linc patted my shoulder, telling me he was ready. I stepped into the door, clearing right. Linc went left, and Declan cleared center. Ortega popped out from behind an overturned desk and both of us pulled our triggers at the same time. Only one of us hit our target. His bullet pulled high right, and mine didn’t. I hit exactly what I was aiming at, his hand. Now missing most of the appendage, Ortega was screaming like a bitch. I fired another round, hitting his thigh, and he jerked with the force of the bullet tearing through his leg. With Linc and Declan clearing the rest of the open area, I threw my M4 over my shoulder, my sling catching it and pulling it tight against my back. I reached for my CQC-7 knife clipped to the front of my vest, and with a flick of my wrist the razor-sharp steel blade locked into place with a snap.

Ortega didn’t have time to react before my blade was in his gut and the thumb of my left hand went to the bullet wound on his thigh.

I pushed my thumb farther into the bloody flesh of his leg and asked, “You like hitting women you motherfucker?”

He didn’t answer.

I dug my thumb in deeper and pulled my knife free before plunging it back in.

“Do you? Did you enjoy putting your hands on my woman?” I was well aware his blood was spilling, the sticky thick liquid coating my pants and shoes. I’d proudly wear this animals blood as I left this shithole. Later I’d look at the stains on my fatigues and remember it was me that had exacted retribution. He hurt Violet. He killed Eric. He would pay for both with his life.

He made a satisfying gargling sound and once again I pulled my knife free. Using my thumb, I released the locking mechanism that kept the blade open and closed the knife, clipping it back on my vest. Keeping my left hand on his thigh, making sure my thumb remained deep in his mutilated flesh, I punched him in the face with my right.

“It isn’t fun when you’re the one helpless, is it?”

He didn’t answer.

I punched him again.

All the fear, hurt, and helplessness I’d felt after he took Violet, combined with the loss of my teammate and friend, bubbled to the surface and boiled over. A rage I’d never felt took over my body and I didn’t try and squelch it. I allowed it to take over. Hit after hit, the indignation consumed me. I no longer felt the bones in his face crushing. All that was left was a bloody mess of mangled tissue.

“That’s enough.” I heard.

I punched him again. He took Violet. Sold her.

Punch.

“He’s gone. It’s over.” My arm was jerked back, and I tried to pull away. “Fucking hell, Blue! Enough. He’s fucking dead.” Zane yanked me away and the blood-thirsty haze started to fade, and my lungs burned with exertion.

“Let’s go,” Leo called from the door. I looked around and saw Declan, Linc, and Leo all carefully watching me. I broke their stares and looked back at Ortega’s body; he was unrecognizable.

“Rot in hell, motherfucker.”

I made my way to Leo and he stepped away from me.