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Graham’s breathing comes to a stuttering halt when Julius, Master, Gunner, and the Hellions stand over us with the lifeless bodies of Garrick, Gavriel, and Gideon. When they drop them beside Graham’s face, he goes ghostly white.
“No!” he bellows, “no!”
Bending low so that my mouth is directly next to his ear, I claim, “Three down, one to go.” Without looking at my brother and nephew, I inform them, “Someone took off with Mera. They went down the right staircase, do we know if one of our men intercepted them?”
“We got her,” Country apprises me. “She’s with Shamus and Texas. She’s safe, brother.”
Kruger elbows Tyson and asks him, “Did you hear him say his favorite game to play is hangman? That was epic.”
“How long have you fuckers been standing there?” I question as I tug on the contraption around Graham’s neck. This entire thing has been anticlimactic. I was hoping our battle with the Crumley brothers would’ve included some interrogating, mutilating, taunting, and slaughtering. I’m disappointed. This was a walk in the park compared to what I’ve been anticipating for years.
This hasn’t been adventurous, it’s been… bland. Drab. Lackluster. Very unsatisfactory. I give it zero stars and two thumbs down on the charts. My grandmother grappled better than this asshole. Leaning my body backward, I hear his airway snap, and his body falls limp.
“I hope his brothers gave y’all more run for your money than this jackass gave me,” I grumble. “He talked the talk, so I thought he’d give me more of a fight than what he did. How the hell did he get the reputation he had? He was a motherfucking pussy.”
“He usually has utensils ready and available. Just then, he only had his brawn and brains, and we know he was lacking in both,” Julius returns.
“Again, Kruger. How long were you and Tyson standing there for? Did you enjoy the show?” I ask, falling back on my ass, a mirthful smile blanketing my face. “The girls and our boys are safe.”
“We’ve been here a hot minute. Took you long enough, we thought we’d have to step in at one point. You’ve been put through the wringer, huh? Usually, you would’ve had him down a lot sooner than you did,” Kruger answers, then puts in his two cents—which no one asked him for, most certainly not me.
“Fuck off, Kruger,” I snap. “I wanted to prolong it just a little.” My fingers widen just a fraction from touching one another, demonstrating to them that I would’ve preferred more roughhousing and antagonizing than I dished out. Especially after what he and his brothers put Mera through.
“We’ve got some stragglers to take back and question. Maybe we’ll be able to locate some other missing people and reunite them with their families,” Julius informs me.
“Take me to my woman,” I insist, my body now lagging since the adrenaline is wearing off. I want my woman, a long hot shower, a few shots of top shelf whiskey, and my bed. Not necessarily in that order. “Tomorrow we’ll interrogate them, tonight, I’m loving Mera.”
With the Crumleys now decimated, save for Shayne, I plan to focus all of my undivided attention on Mera and help her overcome any difficulties she may experience in dealing with the aftermath of our ordeal. I know how verbally cruel they were to her, but I haven’t seen her since her interrogation so I’m not sure how she’s dealing. However, Graham stated he had put his hands on her, so I mentally prepare myself. She doesn’t need to see me physically react and lash out when I put my eyes on her. She better not have one single mark on her.
Mera
I punched,clawed, kicked, and bit. No matter how hard I fought, my new owner overpowered me. My pride took a hit, but the moment that Shamus ripped me from the despicable man’s arms, I went wild. A crazed look swamped my face. I was feral. Rabid. Savage. Bloodthirsty. Berserk. Unobtainable—and I won’t ever say I’m sorry for doing what I did next.
While they had him incapacitated on the ground, I drew back my leg and let it soar, shoving his balls up into his throat and making him croak on them. The men surrounding me made sounds of protest. They weren’t gurgling in sympathy for the man who deserved what he got, but noises that said loud and clear that they were glad that they weren’t on the receiving end of my comeuppance.
That maniacal smile he’d been wearing since towering over me vanished, the mask he’d cloaked himself with slipped free, and for once, I saw his unguarded vulnerability. I was no longer his hostage and he was no longer my sadistic tormentor. But there are others who are still stuck with theirs, and I’m going to make it my life’s mission to find them and unbind them from their abductors.
“Vindictive little thing. Isn’t she?” Shamus asks Texas.
“Yeah, she is. I love it,” Tex answers, rubbing his hands together. He bends down low and starts digging through the man’s pockets and yanks out a wallet. “Let’s see who we’ve got here, shall we?” He directs that question toward me and I nod because I’d like to know who had the money he had to spend that type of money on me.
Shamus bends over Texas’ shoulder and reads. “Elvin Carmichael. Damn, your parents must’ve hated you. That name probably got you bullied in school. No wonder you’re such an asshole.”
“Makes sense that he’d need to see himself as entitled enough to own another person. Gotta make yourself feel big after being chopped down to nothing for most of your life. Got news for you,” Shamus says as he raises his tone’s volume, “you should’ve let it make you stronger instead of weaker. Now, instead of a survivor, you’ve taken their place. You’re a bully, a pathetic pipsqueak. Know what we like to do to men like you, Elvin?”
“W-what?” he sputters.
“It’s usually classified information shared only with those in our inner circle and we trust, but I don’t think Pres would mind me disclosing it to you. Do you, Texas?” Shamus asks as my head volleys between the two of them. They seem to be in their element, and I don’t want to do anything that’ll interrupt whatever mind game they’re playing.
“Nah, man. Give it to him straight, Texas replies in an encouraging tone. Almost as if they’re best friends and he’s letting him in on a deep, dark mysterious secret.
Licking his lips, Shamus shares, “We won’t cut you off at the knees, instead, we’ll remove a certain appendage and make you suck it like a lollipop. Doesn’t that sound like fun?” When he and Texas laugh, I gag, visualizing what my former owner is about to endure. He may deserve their torture for what he attempted to do to me, but still… it’s gross.
When Texas tacks on, “Maybe we’ll shove it up your ass first and turn it into a poop pop. We’ll let you lick it until it’s clean of your shit and blood. Then, maybe Gunner will let me clip your balls and make you suck out your cum through a straw. It’d be poetic justice if I do say so myself.”
Turning my head to the side, I lose the minuscule contents of my stomach. I continue purging my guts out until I’m to the point of dry heaving. It burns, and the stench has my stomach rolling all over again. That description was unnecessary, and a bit too explicit for my liking. I’ve always been able to use words and turn them into virtual illustrations in my mind, and that was a picture I could’ve lived the rest of my life without envisioning.
A bottle of water is brought to me by Malice. I use it to swish and rinse my mouth out before gulping down the remaining contents. Acid is still stuck on my taste buds, but it’s tolerable now that I’ve flushed the aftertaste as best as I can. I could use an entire tube of toothpaste and mouthwash, which will be the first thing I do when we make it home.
