AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Lockland shakes his head, his lips a flat line. Ciaran places his foot on his throat and presses down. Lockland’s pale skin grows redder and redder until his mouth opens and he gasps for air. Ciaran laughs and shoves the severed cock into Lockland’s mouth. “You’re not in control here, motherfucker. I am. Now bite.”
Lockland shakes his head again, and Ciaran pulls the large chain from around his neck. “I’m gonna make you eat that cock. Whether it’s painful or easy is up to you.”
Lockland’s eyes go wide, and his jaw moves, taking a bite of his own dick.
Watching Ciaran in all his violent glory is like gazing in awe at a masterpiece. He’s calm and composed but also unhinged and deranged. I want to kneel at his feet and worship his cock like I’m praying at an altar to god.
“Got your blades?”
My gaze moves from Lockland to Ciaran’s handsome face, bright blue eyes ablaze as he looks at me. “Yes.”
He grins, and my heart constricts and expands. He is so beautiful. “Good. Our friend here needs dessert. Chop off his balls.”
Lockland’s eyes are wild with terror. He’s trying to scream, but his mouth is full of his own cock, and Ciaran’s large hands are holding his mouth shut.
I bend down and almost barf, not because I have an issue with chopping off any of his appendages. Far from it. The fucker deserves this. I just don’t want to touch his balls.
Ciaran chuckles, sensing my discomfort. “Hold it down with your foot, and then hit it with the blade.”
I push down on his scrotum with the toe of my boot before I sever his balls with my sharp blade.
Ciaran lifts one ball in his hand. “Pretty small. Dessert might not be very satisfying.” He pushes down on Lockland’s throat again and shoves the flesh in his mouth before forcing it closed.
He turns to me. “Start stabbing.”
Violence is a drug for me, like the hit of heroin for a junkie. First time I killed, I freaked out. It traumatized me, even though it was a clean kill—no blood, no aggression, just a drop of poison in a bowl of soup. But that first kill had me wanting more. I wanted anyone who’d ever harmed the innocent to pay. Over time, the payment I extracted became fueled with pain and bloodlust.
The pain of a knife wound isn’t inflicted by stabbing the victim—the pain comes from slicing away their flesh. I learned that the first time someone stabbed me. You can be stabbed multiple times and, somehow, endure the pain. But slicing, feeling the sharp tip of the blade and the scrape of the metal inside your flesh? That’s a whole different level of agony.
Blood spatters from Lockland’s wounds, seeping onto the floor. Some of it splatters me, but I don’t stop. I’ve unleashed the killer, the part of me that wants the reward of seeing this man die, knowing he’ll never be able to hurt another innocent person again.
“Parisa, stop!” Ciaran’s voice breaks my concentration. I look up and notice how the blood has drenched his face. “Stop. I need him to know something before he goes.”
My hands move away from his decimated body, and I stumble back.
Ciaran wraps his hands around Lockland’s throat and moves his face closer to the dying man. “Do you remember Tommy Kelly and Donovan Keen? This is for them.” Ciaran squeezes, and Lockland’s eyes bulge. The life in his eyes flickers before it’s doused forever.
Ciaran turns his attention to me. “Now, how do I deal with you?”
Chapter Seven
CIARAN
Parisa doesn’t even look at me. She’s quickly on her feet, jumping up and storming from the room. She’s behaving like a scared little mouse, but we both know she’s a cat. And I’m the lion. I turn the corner, quick on her heels, and that’s when I see it—my girl in the arms of a random drunk.
“Get your hands off her before I fuckin’ rip them off you.”
The asshole’s lips twitch, and he smiles. He ignores me, turning his face down towards Parisa. “Who’s this, baby?”
Baby? Who the fuck is he calling baby? “I’m the guy that’s going to detach your arms from your body if you don’t remove them from my property.”
“Is that so?” the guy asks, tightening his hold on Parisa.
I don’t think. I launch the chain from around my neck, catching him in the face. The guy stumbles back, trying to avoid another hit. The weight of the chain disorients him, causing him to wobble on his feet. That gives me the opening I need to grab Parisa by the arm and move her to me. “Unless you want me to kill him, know you’re fuckin’ place.”
Her dark eyes flash with anger. “Fuck you.”
She doesn’t enjoy being told what to do, but I don’t give a shit. If she stopped running away, I wouldn’t need to be controlling. She’s mine. Has been from the first moment I laid eyes on her, and there’s no way I’m ever letting someone else’s filthy hands touch her.
