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“You just have to do one thing first.” Damon slices through the fabric of a struggling Thomas’s pants.
“Fuck you. No. Stop?—”
Thomas’s shouts are morphed into excruciating cries. Nausea crawls up my throat. With Damon’s back blocking my line of sight, I can’t see exactly what’s happening, but from his hand placement and the way Thomas is screaming, I can guess.
Damon stands and looks down at a now limp Thomas. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? You want to be free, don’t you?”
His only reply is a whimpered plea as Damon’s bloody fingers grip his jaw, prying it open before shoving something in.
Thomas chokes and gags until the sharp knife is pressed below his neck, grazing his throat.
“I thought you’d enjoy this? You like putting your dick where it doesn’t belong.”
I almost feel bad for him. Almost.
“Now, chew,” Damon commands, voice flat as Thomas thrashes against the grip he has on him and forces his mouth open and closed like a puppet.
The muscles in Thomas’s jaw clench as he does before he gags and vomits around his own flesh.
Damon’s already out of the way, twisting the handle of the knife in his fingers.
Tears streak down my ex’s cheeks. “I did what you said. Now, let me go.”
Damon just laughs before bringing the knife back to Thomas’s throat. “You really thought I’d let you live? You’re lucky I’m going to let you die.”
The knife easily cuts through Thomas’s skin, and I hold my breath as the iron smell of blood hits my nose, not daring to inhale. The world grows fuzzy and dark around me.
“Fuck. Catch her.”
Strong arms circle me, and I’m lifted into the air and pressed into a hard chest.
“I’ve got you.” Damon’s familiar cologne scent fills my nose seconds before everything goes black.
Chapter 39
Misty
The crisp zest of ginger ale fills my mouth as I take another sip, breathing through my nose. Why did I think I could hang with murderers? I can definitely not hang.
My stomach flips at the thought of all of that blood, and I drop my head between my knees where I’m sitting on one of the large leather lounge chairs in the Everette’s private room at Elysium.
“You okay?” Damon asks, rubbing a hand tentatively on my upper back.
No, Damon. I’m not okay. I just participated in my first torture, murder! My hands grow sweaty as I let that settle over me. We’d killed Thomas. Like, if there was ever a guy, he’d be it, but still. I’m just a normal freaking girl.
People joke about killing their ex. In Mia’s case, she helped get hers arrested.
We definitely do not murder them.
Well, most of us don’t. Rae looked pretty comfortable with the idea. I wonder if Damon will give me her number?
The nausea fades, allowing me to finally look up.
Damon kneels in front of me. His fingers brush a damp piece of hair from my face and tuck it behind my ear. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you in there.”
Honestly, I’m not sure if it was the whole concept of murder so much as it was the overwhelming amount of blood. My stomach rolls at the thought.
I swallow hard. “Does it have to be so messy?”
