Page 92 of Ink

“That’s for every single burn you put on my girl’s body,” I growl as I spit on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he says weakly.

“You’re only sorry because you got caught. Pathetic.” I sneer.

“We’re even. I learned my lesson. Just please… I can’t take anymore.”

“Oh, we aren’t done.” I laugh. It sounds wicked even to my ears.

I signal for Cyrus and Hash to release their hold as my hand wraps around the base of Zach’s neck in a tight grip. Yanking him to his feet, I slam him up against the wall. My hand slides around to the front and I squeeze as I lift him off the ground until his feet are dangling inches above it.

Zach starts choking as he tries to gasp for air. On instinct, his hands shoot to mine as he weakly tries to pull me off. “Did it feel good leavin’ the bruises on her fuckin’ neck?” He looks at me with his eyes bulging out of his head. His face is beet red. “Answer me!” I roar.

He nods his head the best he can, which isn’t very much. Blood from the cut on his stomach is dripping all over the carpet and my boots, having opened more from being rubbed up against when he was on the floor.

“Unlike Sutton, during all those days that you hurt her, you aren’t going to make it out of this one,” I tell him, voice dead.

My fist slams into his face over and over, each hit harder than the last. His nose cracks, sending blood spraying across the walls and coating my knuckles. My grip in his throat tightens hard the more he struggles until the life drains out of him, slumping against my hold.

I still don’t stop.

With each punch, I see Sutton curled up in the fetal position in my shower, scared for her life because of this piece of shit.

“He’s done, brother,” Hash calls, trying to get me to snap out of it. He grabs my elbow on a drawback, stopping me from punching him again. “He’s done.”

I nod my head. “I know.” I exhale sharply. “I know.”

“Text Prez that we need clean up,” Cyrus says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “I know you’re still raging, so that’s the only reason I’m not gonna bring this up right now, but just know, I’m pissed as hell you didn’t let me get one punch in.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” Hash rolls his eyes. “When it’s your turn, you’ll get your punch in. Until then, you’ll have a back.”

“Having a back doesn’t mean holding legs down like a little bitch boy.” Cyrus pouts back. “Wait, what do you mean by my turn?”

“You probably won’t get one. No one wants to put up with your crazy ass,” Hash says, and he drags Zach’s lifeless body so he’s lying flat on the floor. “Head on back, brother. We got this.”

“I’m not leavin’ you guys.” My mind drifts to Sutton, wondering what she’s doing and knowing that she’s probably freaking out.

“Scotch is on his way. Go be with your woman.” Hash waves me off.

Not feeling like arguing about it, I thank him and head back to my woman with a smile on my face, knowing she’s going to have her first sleep out of her nightmare and into the fairytale she’s always dreamed about.

Chapter

Thirty

SUTTON

By the time evening comes around, I’m drunk.

I blame Evan. She told me her favorite pastime is day drinking and smoking. When I told her I’ve never smoked before either, I thought she was going to lose her mind.

So here I am, sitting out on her back deck with a joint she just rolled minutes before.

“We’ll share this. I usually like my own, but I don’t want you to be comatose,” she says as she lights it up.

I know she’s trying to take my mind off of what Ink is doing. He never came back to the house today. All I got was a text telling me to stay here and that some kid named Levi would be over to watch the house.

He doesn’t look much more than a few years younger than me, but Evan was right. He carries himself well and is as sweet as can be. If it weren’t for the baby face he still hasn’t outgrown, he could easily pass for closer to thirty based on maturity alone.