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“A few more days, Journey West. That’s how long you have until your freedom is mine. Everything that concerns you is mine and theirs,” he growls, pointing to Shepp and Arrow.
My lips pop open when he squeezes again, letting just enough air through my windpipe to keep me upright.
A few days? Why that length of time? And what the hell will happen then? Schools over. I graduated. Now, my focus is finding my damn sister. I’ve been trying for so damn long to get it done, but I’m never successful. All bets are off now.
“Please tell me what he did to you so I can chop every fucking digit and appendage that touched you without your consent.” He raises a brow when my fingers wrap around his wrist.
“Why don’t you wait until after we dismantle his car?” Arrow pipes in, letting an armful of weapons fall to the ground with a clatter. He grins at me, gesturing to the pile. I wrinkle my nose. Geez, do these boys do this a lot? Mentally, I tally the pile—a metal baseball bat, an ax, two lead pipes, and a samurai sword. Who needs a samurai sword? But also, what do they use them for? Also, where can I get one for myself?
“All right, let’s fuck shit up,” Arrow says, rubbing his hands together with glee. “Pick your favorite piece, Kitten. Personally, this is mine.” He reaches down and grabs the ax. “It slices through metal and flesh—no problem.”
I stiffen at his words, still stuck in Jericho’s grasp. My eyes fall to Shepp, who gently nods in Jer’s direction with a pleading smile.
“Fine,” I rasp, peeling his fingers from around my throat. I need to get this destruction done and over with before Leighton decides to call the cops and have me fucking arrested. Worst outcome ever. “He assaulted me. Okay?”
“Assaulted?” Jericho growls, turning a deep shade of red. “I'm going to…”
“Help us wreck this piece of shit. Come on, boys. Grab a weapon.” Arrow doesn't hesitate when he hands me a lead pipe. “Let's cause some mayhem!” he howls, throwing back his head with a demented laugh.
I focus on nothing more than the destruction of Leighton's car.
“Ladies first,” Arrow says, gesturing to the window.
Nothing beats the taste of destruction in the middle of the night under a full moon. Much like Arrow, I let it all go and fucking howl one time before I get started. Nothing runs through my mind but the retribution I’m owed. Even my darkness joins in, taking over as my grip tightens on the metal pipe. Men like Leighton don't deserve nice things while they shove drugs and booze down their throats and take advantage of women.
This is his goddamn reckoning.
I kick off my heels into the bushes that decorate the mile-long driveway and make my way onto the hood of his car. I rest the lead pipe on my shoulder, staring down at the beast beneath me.
“Hold it right there, Kitten,” Arrow groans, shoving a Polaroid camera in my direction. The bright flash momentarily stuns me. Then, a picture spits out of the device he now has hanging around his neck.
I swallow hard, my heart pounding wildly in my chest when he shakes the picture and then looks it over with appreciation. My eyes connect with his as they sparkle with a knowing look, and he nods. The grin on his face sends shivers down my spine.
So few people carry instant cameras these days.That’s what cellphones are for. Instant. Digital. Well, everyone except Arrow and the man who enters my bedroom each night and leaves them on my pillows before he leaves.
“You,” I mumble through a breath, momentarily losing traction.
He winks at me, nodding his head toward the car like he knows I’m about to lose my mind with the facts surrounding me.
But I don’t have time to truly dissect what’s happening right now. Is he the one leaving photos by my pillow each night? Probably, yes. He’s proven to be insane enough to do that.
But I’ve got a car to destroy. Then, I can accuse him of being a stalker.
“This is for my spank bank later. Destruction gets me so fucking horny, Kitten. Now, show me what you got.” He gestures for me to continue and takes a step back, grinning from ear to ear.
My heart pounds under the glare of the stars as metal groans beneath my bare feet. Taking a few steps across the hood of his precious sports car—how goddamn cliche—I spit on the windshield in disgust.
"Fuck you Leighton," I grunt, sticking my middle finger in the air. Another bright flash accompanied by a moan follows when I spit again. “This is what you get!” I shout, heaving the lead pipe into the windshield.
Spiderweb breakage takes over the glass, splintering in every direction.
One by one, I'm breaking my rules. Double fuck him with a soldering iron. Another step toward freedom. Another day that I’m taking my life in my hands and not caring what he thinks. I’m so desperate to be out from under his thumb and just be myself that I’m willingly committing a crime. Screw the fucking consequences. Let the cops haul me away. Let the neighbors in this hoity-toity neighborhood call this in.
Let my monster in on the illegal things I've done. What more can he do? Kill me? I don't think he'd ever truly hurt Sunny. She's innocent. But I'm not. They have a moral code that rules their decisions. As fucked up as it might be, they don't intentionally harm civilians. Me though? I fucked up long ago. I'm fair game. Guilty of the crime I committed.
My fingers brush against the large scar hidden between my breasts. The mark is an everlasting reminder—a brand of my survival. An infinite wound that won't ever heal. Numbness greets my fingertips as I run over the thick, corded skin. It may not bleed any longer, but the pain resides behind my lungs.
Once my mind spirals back to the land of the living, I return to the destruction I've meticulously planned since that creep Leighton put his hand between my legs without even as much as a how ya doing, Journey.
