Page 122 of Dangerous Attraction

Stubbing out the cigarette, he opens up the doors and motions for me to go down.

"I feel like you're leading me to my death," I mutter, slowly descending into the basement.

He chuckles behind me.

"Not yours…" When I reach the bottom, he flicks the light on, and my gaze immediately homes in on the man dangling from the metal pull-up bar, grunting behind the tape slapped over his mouth. "His."

Trix's father swings back and forth as he struggles against the rope bound around his wrists, strapping him to the pole above. Tears spill down his dirty, bruised cheeks, and muffled shouts ring out around us.

"Mark seems to think pleading with us is going to help," Milo says as he jumps down the last few steps to stand next to me. "But I've already told him it's pointless."

My teeth grind together, and I clench my hands so tightly my fingers click.

"As much as I'd love to watch you beat the shit out of him, I think that would be letting him off too easy after everything he's done to our girl."

"My girl," I snap, glaring at my best friend.

He holds his hands up and takes a step back.

"My bad. Jesus. Don't bite my head off."

Walking toward the man dangling in front of us, I lift my foot and kick him in the stomach, watching in amusement as he tries and fails to curl his body inward.

"I think we should play a little game," I say, glancing at Milo over my shoulder. "Fancy some target practice?"

Milo's eyes light up with glee, and he claps his hands together.

Crossing the basement, I yank my throwing knives out of the wall, glad I hadn't put them away the last time I was down here.

"Take the tape off his mouth. I want to hear the little bitch scream in pain and beg for us to stop."

Moving back in front of where Trix's dad is, I toss the knives up into the air, one by one, catching them as they fall back down.

Milo rips the tape from his mouth, and Mark immediately starts screaming.

Both of us laugh as we watch him fight and struggle.

"No one's going to hear you," Milo says. He stands next to me and holds his hand out.

I pass him two of the knives, twirling the remaining three between my fingers.

"Please! I'm sorry," he cries, kicking his legs out. "I'll leave, and I'll never come near her again."

"You already made that mistake," I tell him as I bounce one of the knives in my hand, then grip the handle and throw it toward him.

A guttural scream escapes him as the sharp point imbeds itself into his left bicep.

"You know, you've left a lot of marks on Trix's body over the years." I hurl another one at him, but this one sinks into his right leg. "Hopefully, by the time I'm done with you, you'll remember every place you ever hurt her."

Milo steps in front of me, grinning like a maniac with a knife in either hand.

"Where else should I hit him?"

"Well, he's bruised her face on multiple occasions, but I think we should save that for last," I tell him, scratching at my beard as I think it over. "Stomach is a good place to hit."

Before the words have left my mouth, Milo's thrown both knives at Trix's dad, one slicing across his abdomen, and the other hitting the wall behind him.

"Ah, shit. I missed one." Milo sighs, moving closer. "I guess I'll have to try again."