Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“What’s done is done. I can’t undo my mistakes. Doing this won’t fix them. But you can stop from making a mistake yourself. I’ll write you a check. Give you cash. Just give me a number. Whatever you want.”
“Payback, bitch,” Easy said before he could stop it, “that’s what he wants.”
“Whatever I want?” Shade drew the point of his knife along his father’s chest, slicing deep enough to separate the skin.
“Please… Don’t. Don’t do this. Don’t make my mistake cause you to make one you’ll regret. This might haunt you forever.”
Oh fuck. He used the H word. The stupid fuck didn’t realize nothing could haunt Shade more than his childhood.
“You’re worried about this hauntin’ me?” Shade shook his head. “Since you asked, gonna tell you what I want… Want you to experience the same fear as what both my mother and I experienced that day in the mall parkin’ lot when those fuckin’ thugs grabbed us. The day our lives changed for-fuckin’-ever. The day that started a long journey into hell. The day I became a toy to be played with. But only ’til they got bored. When that happened, they passed me along to the next sick fuck. My worth got less the more I was used and the older I got. ’Til I finally became worthless.”
Holy fuckin’ shit. If Oliveira was smart, he’d just keep his mouth shut from here on out. His pleading would only make things worse. Draw things out even longer.
“Your son was told he was worthless. But, you know what? He knew that already ‘cause his father’s actions showed him he was worthless long before that. A four-year-old boy was considered disposable, no better than trash to be thrown away. Outta sight, outta mind, right, Dad?” Shade leaned in and drew the tip of the knife down his father’s cheek, once again drawing blood. “Problem solved.”
Blood mixed with tears, leaving red streaks behind.
Snot bubbled from the man’s nose as he yelled, “I can’t feel my hands!”
Oliveira’s mind must be messing with him since losing the circulation in his hands was the least of his problems. Most of his back was skinned.
“Not gonna need them.”
Like Easy suspected, Shade began to cut rectangular strips of flesh from his sperm donor’s chest and stomach. Even his thighs.
Eventually, the wailing became too much for Easy. The methodical way Shade continued to skin the man made Easy’s stomach lurch.
For fuck’s sake, not only his stomach but his mind couldn’t take any more.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to eat one of the whole spit-roasted pigs again without thinking of this situation.
Bones. Muscles. Tendons. All being exposed while the man was still conscious. Like some fucked-up version of an advent calendar.
What was behind this door? A goddamn rib bone.
When saliva pooled in his mouth, Easy knew he had to get the fuck out of there before he puked.
“Brother, you do your thing. Gonna go bleach my fuckin’ brain and sit in the office. Come get me when you need me.”
Shade didn’t respond. He was in some sort of zone. Hopefully his brother heard him but Easy wasn’t going to wait around to make sure. Instead, he got the fuck out of there.
Once he stepped into the front office, he shut the door, closing himself in and hoped like fuck he’d no longer be able to hear the screams.
Though, he might be hearing those screams for fucking years. If not forever.
Chapter Ten
Tessa moved quietly through the dark, keeping her eyes peeled for anything or anyone moving in the night.
Like her brother. Or any of his brothers.
Or even a sweet butt leaving the bunkhouse since they weren’t permitted to stay all night. Tessa had a few close calls with a couple of them. However, they were allowed to be in the bunkhouse in the middle of the night because they had a good reason. Unlike Tessa.
Maybe she should get in the habit of going into the bunkhouse kitchen first, grabbing some random food item and carrying that with her when she left. At least it would be some kind of excuse of why she was somewhere she didn’t belong at two or three in the morning.
It might be a flimsy excuse but as her brother liked to say, “Something was better than nothing.” In this case, something in her hand was better than nothing. Like when Whip had run into her early one morning as he was coming in and she was heading out.
She hadn’t heard from Easy all weekend. Not a damn word. He’d gone to New Jersey to pick up his new sled with Shade and of course, he wasn’t going to be checking in with her while he was with his brother.
Not that he checked in with her at any other time. His radio silence was nothing new.
She started this. This thing they had. He didn’t.