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***
The rapist is no longer in his penthouse dormitory. I’ve been keeping tabs on him. It seems daddy dearest, Charles Snr, did feel something about what happened to Raven because he promptly quit his position at the university. Admittedly, it was probably more to do with his own shame and embarrassment, but once he handed in his notice, his son was no longer entitled to his fancy ass scholarship.
“Usrana luknja,” Ace mutters under his breath as we sit in my car outside the rapist’s flat and wait for his company to leave. I raise a brow at him. “Shithole. Makes Raven’s seem nice.”
I nod in agreement; the place is worse than Raven’s old flat, but I know that it could have been much worse for her if I wasn’t doing my bit on the side to help her out, undetected. With his grandparents unwilling or unable to support him any longer, Charlie now resides in a small flat close to campus while he desperately relies on his socialite mother to secure him a wealthy wife. For now, the grandparents are still paying for his education, but without the perks he’s used to and no doubt thinks he’s entitled to. He’s actually waiting on a transfer to a less prestigious university, and I have it on good authority that his place has been fast tracked. His parents, now separated, have been informed that he has transferred already.
Basically, no one is going to miss him for a few days. Maybe even longer.
“Look out,” I say, pointing to the opening door of the block of flats we’ve been staking out. Three rowdy guys are leaving, bottles in hand, and I know they’ve been visiting the rapist because they all look like his sycophants. “Let’s do this.”
Wordlessly, we climb out of the car and I quickly check my pockets to ensure all of my equipment is where I need it. It’s been a long time since I had a range of toys to play with. I’m determined to make this guy pay, but I’d rather put a bullet in him than get carried away. I need to be smart. I need to hit him where it’s going to hurt. Maximum damage and impact.
He needs a wealthy wife. He has to keep up appearances – they’re everything to him. So I’ll start by carving up his precious face. It’s logical, and in no way reminiscent of the way he carved up Raven’s body with his knife. Maybe he can afford to lose a finger or two as well. His ring finger could be a good place to start.
“Dihati,” Ace tells me. “Breathe.”
I give him my signature smile, the one that’s all psycho. I don’t need to breathe or calm down. I am ice. I’m excited.
Getting in is no trouble. The lock on the main door into the flats is broken so we waltz right in. I knock twice on the first door we pass and immediately loud heavy metal music blares through the flimsy door. A moment later, a cacophony of metal floods the entire building as all of the residents switch on their music. It pays to have connections – or to at least be able to pay people off – although in a dump as shady as this, I doubt the residents would ever dream of seeing or hearing anything. There’s certainly no security or surveillance anywhere to be found.
We cross the hallway to the one silent door. The rapist’s. I nod at Ace and he uses his bulk – nowhere near as big as Rebel but still impressively built – to bust open the shitty lock and pathetic chain.
“What the fuck?!” The piece of shit cries from the sofa where he has one hand in his sweatpants and a cheesy porno blaring from the speakers. His guests just left, so either they’re into some kinky shit or this guy moves fast. I’m betting on the latter. Although, it’s probably both.
Ace sniggers at catching him with his pants down but before the fucker can jump to his feet, he screams. It’s raw and agonised and music to my ears. Ace has moved in a blur that I didn’t even see and launched a knife into the thigh of the screaming cunt.
I blink, impressed. What kind of training does this guy have? Raven mentioned they used to spar together and I know she’s handy with a blade too…
“Izmet,” Ace spits. I’ve never seen him wound so tight. He’s enraged. An emotion I honestly didn’t think him capable of. He’s always so laid back and easy going. But there was emotion behind the way he threw that knife; it sunk into the rapist’s flesh right up to the hilt.
The scum is so busy screaming at his leg, he fails to notice our approach. We grab him under the arms and haul his ass up over the back of the sofa, dragging him into his bedroom. I toss him on the bed like the filthy trash that he is, wiping my hands of the stain of him on my pressed slacks. Ace, dressed in far more practical sweatpants, T-shirt and hoodie, grins at my actions.
Coward on the bed doesn’t even try to move.
“Please! Please! What do you want? I have money! My family’s rich!”
“If you’re so rich, where’s your fancy penthouse now?” I give a hollow laugh. His eyes widen.
“Oh yes, Charles Junior. I know everything about you—”
He pales.
“—And your fucked-up family tree.”
I spy the wrist restraints wrapped around the bars of his headboard. They’re far too heavy duty to be for consensual sex. It turns my stomach knowing why he has them, but I steel myself. It just makes my job easier. I nod towards the cuffs and Ace takes the hint, easily restraining the guy.
I distract him by twisting the knife and making him scream. He turns a funny shade of green, and I just know that we’re going to be here all night.
“This pussy doesn’t have the stomach for it. I bet he passes out in the next ten minutes,” I mutter disgustedly.
“Five,” Ace barks as I pull out my favourite blade, caressing it like a lover. It’s been far too long since it saw any action, and it craves the taste of blood as much as I do.
Hopping up onto the bed, I straddle the guy’s chest, knees either side of his pathetic torso. Anger and disgust bubble up inside me as I stare down at him and wonder what the hell Raven ever saw in him.
I spit in his face.
“Ace. Open his mouth.”
