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I jab the knife back into his thigh, taking great pleasure in the blood that wells and stains his jeans.
And, of course, his scream of pain.
Now, now, now… I’m not a complete psychopath. I wouldn’t kill little Roy here just because he has a crush on my girl. Honestly, I’d congratulate him on his impeccable taste in women, and then castrate him so he doesn’t get any ideas.
But Roy’s father—a sleazy political advisor of some of the most prominent officials in the United States government—has been on Reece’s list for quite some time.
And when we discovered that they were related to that sick fuck, Mr. Moreau? Well, what were we to do?
Without Beckett around, we have no way to hack into any of their computers or other electronic devices, but that’s okay. There’s this fancy, dancy little thing called face identification. All I have to do is hold the phone up to one of their faces…and voilà! Instant access.
“Please, you don’t have to do this! I can give you money! Please!” Tommy Gibbens begins to cry in earnest from where he sits tied up in his own kitchen chair.
“Nothing you say will stop them, Dad.” Roy sounds as if he’s talking through gritted teeth, and I don’t know if it’s because he’s furious or in pain. Perhaps both? What would someone call that? Purious? Fain? Furain? Painious? “They’re fucking insane. They’re only doing this because I tried to kiss the girl they like.”
Like a switch being flipped, my good move evaporates, replaced by blinding anger. It’s so intense and soul consuming that I actually black out for a second, dark specks expanding across my vision. Heat crawls up my neck and lands in my cheeks, and my hand holding my favorite dagger clenches almost imperceptibly.
I can still hear Ellie’s pleas as Roy tried to take something that didn’t belong to him.
I should’ve killed that fucker the second he attempted to force himself on her.
Oh, well. I can’t change the past, but I can make sure nothing like that happens in the future.
“We’re not killing you simply because you like Ellie.” Landon materializes in the doorway of the living room—the Gibbenses’ living room. It’s poetic justice that we plan to kill them in the one place they should be the safest.
“We’re killing you because you’re a member of the Paragons of Prosperity,” Dom adds, flicking through Tommy’s mail. He tosses aside envelopes he doesn’t deem as important.
Tommy’s mouth turns agape, and Roy just appears confused, his brow furrowing.
“What the fuck are you talking about? Propensity what?” Roy gives Dom an incredulous look, but Dom ignores him, already turning away to explore the rest of the house.
Landon kneels down, so he’s in front of Roy, and cocks his head to the side. “The Paragons of Prosperity. Have you heard of it before?”
“Of course not.” Roy scoffs.
“Your papa has. Isn’t that right, Tommy?” Landon flicks his gaze to the old man, who has turned a sickly shade of green, sweat beading on his forehead.
Still, the ugly fucker attempts to deny what we already know. “Of course not! I’ve never heard of it?—”
Wham!
His head is knocked back from the force of my punch.
“Oops. Sorry. My hand slipped,” I deadpan as Roy turns his head to face me, his eyes hurling metaphorical daggers.
“You motherfucker!” Tommy struggles against his restraints, though the effort is futile. I’m a motherfucking Boy Scout when it comes to tying people up.
Well, not technically.
I got banned.
Apparently, it’s not appropriate to “test out recently learned hunting strategies” on the other boys. Who would’ve thought?
“Did you know that your father has an app on his phone that allows him to buy men and women?” Landon asks, his tone deceptively casual. He’s still crouched in front of Roy, but his attention isn’t on the other boy or his father. Instead, he focuses on the long hunting knife he holds in his hands. The artificial lighting reflects off the blade in a way that draws the eye. “This app…” His lip curls in disgust. “It’s disgusting. You can watch murder porn, real porn…” He swallows. “You can bet on fights, pay for someone to get assassinated, buy humans like damn cattle. It’s the modern dark web for the rich and powerful.”
Roy bares his blood-soaked teeth in Landon’s direction. “Bullshit.” But even as he says it, something flickers in his eyes.
It’s not surprise or even disbelief.
