face-first onto the ground. “Crawl, cunt.”
He shoves himself back up to his kneeling position and sneers at me, “Just fucking do it then! Be a fucking man and kill me, pendejo”
I lean forward in his chair. “She told me everything, you know. I know what you made her do. Crawl your ass over here or I’ll set your own dogs onto you. They answer to me now, cunt.”
He lifts his chin at me in defiance, the type I don’t want to see out of him right now and I finally lose my cool a little.
I pull my gun out and aim it at his head. He smirks, happy with the quick and easy death he thinks he’s about to get, and the smirk I give him back is laced with poisons and sharp blades. I lower the gun until it’s aimed over his heart, pausing long enough that the smirk falters a little and then I aim lower. He blanches but I don’t give him time to argue.
I shoot him in the dick.
Correction: I shoot his filthy, rapist, pin-dick right off.
The screams he gives out are like fucking ecstasy hitting my bloodstream, the type of high that can only come from destroying the men that hurt my girl.
The other men all clutch at their own dicks, gasping and murmuring to each other in Spanish as the blood from their boss’s mangled genitals seeps into the carpet and the pool begins to spread out towards them.
“Crawl, Alcatron. Crawl to me and accept your death.”
When the screams from him finally dry up the color is gone from his face. His skin looking waxy and the sweat pouring from his face mixing with the tears streaming from his eyes. I stare down at him with the grim satisfaction of a man who has seen the depths of hell to make it out on the other side with a gun in one hand and a list of men to die in the other.
My girl deserves every fucking cartel heart in this room. She deserves them all and more.
By the end of the torture and their deaths I have six new hearts in jars and the Unseen have a whole new appreciation for the Butcher of the Bay.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Odie
I paint all night and by dawn mon Monstre still isn’t home. I feel the fingers of dread up my spine but after I shower to wash off the paint I find a text message from him on my phone.
Everything is fine baby girl. I’ll be home late, don’t wait up.
I know what he went out tonight to do so I’m not shocked he’s going to be late but I know how dangerous the streets of the Bay really are, so there will always be that underlying fear bubbling in my gut when he goes out.
I triple-check the locks and the security system before I head back to our bedroom. I leave my gun on the nightstand and I tuck one of the switchblades under my pillow, the unease of knowing all of the evil in the world always present. The sheets are cold without him in the bed with me, so I cover myself in his clothes and tuck my face into his pillow until I’m surrounded by his scent. The tension in me slowly eases out until I drift off, the blackout curtains on the window rendering the room into complete darkness.
I’m woken hours later by the stroke of fingers across my face and the low murmur of his voice, a calming balm on my soul.
“What a fucking sight to come home to. You look like an angel spread out on my pillow like that, baby girl.”
I smile before I open my eyes, stretching out my back and giggling as his eyes roam over my chest. I’m completely covered but the way he looks at me… you’d think I was wearing the finest of silks and lace. He strips the blankets away from my body and slowly inches the sweater up my body. I finally get a good look at him and my breath catches in my throat.
He’s standing there with a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still wet from the shower and little droplets are working their way down his heavily tattooed chest.
“How was your day, mon Monstre?” I murmur, my voice heavy and slurred a little with sleep. My accent is stronger when I first wake up and the slow smirk over his face has him looking like the devil, here