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“Ghost?” he pressed when I didn’t reply, my nickname a rumble against my back. He dipped his head, nudging my neck with his nose, making me sigh.
Fuck, I was so tired.
We’d been sleeping upstairs, in one of the back rooms of the bar each night since we’d been here. Showering on the third floor. Surviving on pub fare, water, and whiskey. It would be nice to be finished, but something inside of me still thirsted for vengeance. I didn’t know if Icouldbe finished. Not yet.
The things this piece of shit put us through.
What he almost took from us.
From me.
I didn’t think I’d ever be finished. There was no ending fitting enough,brutal enough, for him.
Rook wrapped a hand around my middle, kissing the nape of my neck.
I closed my eyes, my core tightening.
They hadn’t touched me, not like this, since I woke up in the hospital. A sweet kiss here and there. A warm body next to mine while I slept. But no more. At first, I thought they were afraid to break me while I was still healing. And this week? This week we spent every waking hour down here until we were all too tired to do anything but sit in a hot shower and fall into bed.
Carson let out another weak sound, ruining the moment. I drew my hand back to throw my blade and shut him up, but Rook caught my wrist. “Wait,” he said, his chin jerking to our prey.
He kissed me again, and something in Carson’s dying eyes betrayed discomfort. Anger.
The fucker still thought he had some claim on me? Even after everything I’d done to him. He’d never touch me, or anyone else again, and not just because he’d never leave this basement.
He didn’t have fingers anymore.
And suddenly, I knew how I wanted to end it.
There was one more form of torture we hadn’t explored.
Rook loosened his grip on my wrist, and I let my hand drop, spinning to face the others. Corvus and Grey lounged on the old black sofa we’d dragged down here a few days ago. Grey wiping down his hands and wrists, all the way up to his elbows.
He’d surprised me the most out of the three. I expected the ruthless thirst for blood from Rook, and even on some level, from Corvus. But Grey took his pound of flesh, too. This morning, with a sort of quiet resignation, he skinned Carson’s back like a hunter might work to remove the pelt from a stag. In trained, precise movements as Carson screamed hoarsely.
When he was finished, he’d discarded the pieces and stood back to let someone else have a turn. Entirely unfazed.
“I’m ready,” I finally told Rook, knowing this needed to end. We’d already taken everything from him that could be taken without killing him. Corvus, his balls and fingers. Rook, his cock, both nipples, and each one of his toes.
We’d taken our time, keeping him with us by cauterizing each wound with Rook’s blowtorch. Sticking him with IV needles to replenish him with a steady supply of liquids.
But it was time.
“How do you want to do it?”
Grey finished washing up and pushed his blond hair away from his face with a sigh. “Together.”
This had Corvus looking up from his phone, and Grey fixing me with a piercing stare.
“I want you to take me while he watches,” I announced, discarding my blade on the floor. “All of you.”
I wanted the last thing he saw to be hisAngelgetting absolutely destroyed by three Saints. ThreeCrows. I wanted him to watch as they made me come. As I enjoyed every touch. Every stroke. As I cried outfor them. As they erased everywherehetouched me, replacing every last memory of him with more ofthem. Until he was expunged from my skin. My bones. My soul.
And then when we were finished, I would end him for good.
“You’re still healing,” Corvus said, but I could already see the hunger in his watchful stare as it traversed my loose, blood-spattered Primal Ethos t-shirt and tight yoga pants.
“So are you.”
