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I toss my knife to Kade who catches it deftly. “Hold that for me for a sec.” He just laughs and shakes his head, gesturing for me to continue. Grabbing Donahue’s tie, I secure it over his eyes so I’m free to move freely while still depriving him of the security watching me gives him. He fights in the chair, but unlike some people, we know how to secure a knot.
Kade is quick to hand me my knife back when I step in front of Donahue and hold my hand out. I push his shredded shirt off his shoulders, baring his skin to me. Perfect. A blank canvas for me to work on. Now, where to start?
He doesn’t deserve to be branded with my name, not even the one he knows. Nor a rose. Something that fits him. I tap my blade against my chin as I consider a few different options before quickly discarding them.
Got it.
I get comfortable on his lap, loving his discomfort almost as much as the sounds of protest behind me once again. At least they’re leaving me be. The tip of my blade slices easily through his flesh like butter. The blood doesn’t slow me down, but I take my time. I want to make sure that every single stroke is flawless. My message needs to be clear. I’m not the same girl he once victimized. We might have been playing a game of cat and mouse for all these years, but the game has finally come to an end. With a clear fucking winner.
I lean back to admire my handiwork. It looks good, but it’s missing something. I tap a finger against my cheek, the sharp smell of blood fills my nose as my finger slicks over my skin. It takes another moment before it hits me. I know what it needs.
He wanted his daisy so damn badly, he can die with the reminder of what dug his grave. His own greed, depravity, and stupidity. I carve each petal painstakingly, each stroke of my blade in his flesh gives me more satisfaction than the last. I can’t wait for him to see.
We’ve barely even started, and that spine of his is already missing. He’s shaking and crying under my touch, the power I hold over him enthralling, addictive. The need to drag this out for as long as possible rides me. I’ll never reach quite this same high ever again. No murder will live up to these ones. To finally righting the wrongs from so many years ago.
I use his shredded shirt to wipe up some of the blood. It’s a futile effort and I throw the shirt behind me and admire my handiwork. I climb out of his lap and turn to face the others. Ryder truly had a stroke of genius when he decided to position their chairs in a circle facing each other. Like a sharing circle. How nice they get to experience not only their own demise, but each other’s as well.
“Fitting, right?” I ask, staring down the Dean first before turning my attention to Schroder. “I’m sure you guys feel the same defeat at the end of a chess game.” I tear the tie off of Donahue’s eyes. It’s wet with his tears and his eyes are already bloodshot. “Want to see?” My voice has never been perkier, not even in the height of my cheer career.
Ryder tosses me a mirror and I have no idea where he even found it. Don’t care enough to ask either. I hold it up for Donahue to see just what I carved into his chest.
Checkmate.
The little color left in his face is drained as he reads the word and stares at the daisy. I use the tip of my finger to dig into the petals of the innocuous flower. Tracing it while widening the cut. He screams behind the gag and it’s sweet fucking music to my ears.
“Your first mistake was ever thinking I was a daisy,” I confide in him. I push my finger tip deeper. “The second was thinking I could ever be yours.”
I spy a glass with the bourbon Charles must have poured earlier. Perfect. I reach out and grab the glass and lift it over Donahue’s chest. “Wouldn’t want your wound to get infected, now would we?” I jeer. His eyes widen and to my delight, shame and fear waft off him as he tenses. I draw out the moment, pouring it slowly, letting it dribble into each stroke of the letters. Each line of the petals. Sweat breaks out on his brow as he shakes in the chair, his arms straining as he tries to pull away from the burn of the liquor.
The light reflects against the crystal glass in my hand. I move it this way and that, entranced by the little rainbow lightshow. It’s empty now. “I guess you’ve earned a bit of a break,” I say casually. “Or maybe I’m just bored of you.” I test the weight of the glass in my hand before slamming it against the side of Donahue’s head with enough force to shatter it.
Glass rains down the side of his face, sticking to his skin, the remains of his clothes, his seat. Now, every time he wiggles in his seat, glass shards will embed deeper into his skin. Blood drips down from his head where I hit him and a dazed look is in his eyes. He blinks slowly as he tries to clear it. Good luck with that.
The hit was hard enough to cause a concussion. I can’t wait for the nausea to start.
“Keep him awake,” I murmur to Kade who takes up sentinel behind him. He’s probably going to enjoy that too much. I never said how to keep him awake. I think about clarifying but, eh. Oh well. Gotta let my big guy have his fun too.
What to do with the other two now? I step closer and sniff the air. I chuckle darkly. The acrid smell of urine. I’ve barely even touched them and they’ve pissed themselves. Or at least one of them has. It’s a good first step to the degradation I crave. But it’s nowhere near enough.
“Hey, Ry,” I call out, a playful lilt in my voice. He swallows a mouthful of water and raises a brow, intrigued. “What’s my favorite threat?”
A slow, cheshire grin overtakes his face.”Yeah?” I nod and the gleam in his eye can’t be described as anything other than sadistic. I love it. “I like the way you think, boss lady.” He takes another gulp of water, tapping Luca on the chest. “You do it, though. You can’t make her touch it.”
I raise my brows. Wasn’t expecting it to turn into a debate.
“I think she’s fine,” Luca argues but Ryder is already shaking his head.
“Gross, Luca. You can’t let her touch shriveled-up old dick. Come on, be a gentleman.”
Luca reels back and I stifle a laugh. “Why don’t you do it then?” he demands.
Ryder lifts his water bottle in answer. “I’m trying to drink my water, bro.” As if that is the most rational answer in the world.
What? Do I wanna… no. I don’t want to know. Not my business. I hold my blade out to Luca as he makes his way across the room.
“I’ll do it,” offers Kade. “If you don’t want to.”
Luca flips him off. “Fuck off, I’m doing it.”
