Page 97 of His Puppet

“Get the goddamn door open.”

Blade

Blood fliesas my fist connects with Gordon Wilson’s nose, and he yelps like a dog, falling back on the carpet.

Settimo stands beside me with his gun drawn and his face a hard mask. It was surprisingly easy to get my best friend on board with killing a Nevada Supreme Court Justice. One as sick as Gordon.

At the end of the gate, in one of the two SUVs we brought, is our tech guy who’s watching all the cameras in case a silent alarm is triggered without us knowing. We have the help of police radios and Detective O’Rourke for that, as well.

We can take our time.

My mind keeps going to Emily in the basement, and I try to push the image out. I saw her, shivering and naked on the ground in the wine cooler she first referred to as ‘the box.’ As soon as my eyes made out what I was seeing, I took Victor up on his offer, more like insistence, to be the one to take her from here. I no longer feel in control of myself. I’d never be able to walk away without seeing the motherfucker suffer, and what I need is for Emily to be as far away from here as humanly capable, as soon as possible.

I crouch, grab the old man’s gray hair, and yank his head up to face me. Snot runs down his nose and tears cloud his eyes.

“Please, just take her,” he says for what must be the tenth time. “I was only trying to protect her,” he cries.

“From who?”

“The world,” he says, his eyes wide and pleading. Every word he’s said so far sounds impossibly sincere, and he’s either an impeccable liar or he’s fucking insane.

“I want you to tell me exactly what you’ve done to her. You do that, and I won’t hurt you,” I lie.

My vision is dotted with red spots, but I’m still somehow able to appear calm. It’s exactly how I felt a decade ago, listening to the cries and pleas of the rookie cop who fucked my mother and had his partners kill my father, too much of a pussy to do it himself.

I felt a rage that night that took control of me. I liked his screams, his begging, his crying. But the thing I liked most of all was the fear he had in his eyes. The hope I stripped away.

I put a knife to his throat just to see it, again and again, drinking up the sheer terror it caused him. I made the first cut, just to see what it would do to him, and the look in his eyes sent me out of control. I made another cut and another, and I didn’t stop until his eyes no longer held anything at all. We played that game for hours, going slow, avoiding his throat, avoiding major arteries, scratching the surface of every inch of skin.

When I was finished, I held his head in my hand by his hair, and I stared into dead eyes.

And then I did it again with the others.

But not with Gordon. Gordon will get exactly what he’s given to Emily.

“Please,” he begs, closing his eyes. I jam my thumb into his eye socket, and he screeches.

“Blade.”

My back tenses, and I blink, unsure if I actually heard Emily’s voice. I look over my shoulder and see her standing there, next to Settimo and Victor, her chin high and eyes hard. I turn to glare at Victor.

He raises his hands in response. “Queen’s orders, your majesty.”

Emily steps forward, and I slowly stand, studying her, reaching out to her like I would a wounded animal.

“Hey,” I say, gently grasping her shoulders and blocking her from her uncle. “You don’t want to see this.”

Her hair is matted with blood, and her lips are blue, but somehow she’s no less beautiful than the last time I saw her. I want to kiss her, throw her against the wall and fuck her, but I hold everything in and don’t dare poke whatever walls this son of a bitch has given her in the last twenty-four hours.

She presses both hands against my chest and raises onto her tiptoes to kiss me. I’m taken aback, but I relax and lean into the kiss. She pulls away and looks at me with a confidence and strength that can’t possibly belong to her after what she’s been through.

“I’m okay,” she says, reading my mind. “But I need you to stand back.”

“Emily…”

“Blade, I need this.”

I frown and look over my shoulder at her abuser with mixed emotions. She’s been through enough.

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