Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
“One more time, then Bellamy here can have his time with Brian.” I hit him in the balls again. A groan leaves his fucked-up mouth. The end of the bat meets his pencil dick yet again as my anger gets the better of me. I’m no longer the controlled man I usually am. I take the bat to one shoulder, then the other, going after his knees next. I repeat the process until Brian’s head is slumped to the side, his body battered and bloody, and I’d keep going, too.
“You going to let Bellamy have a go at him before it’s over?” Sly’s voice breaks through Brian’s groans and my grunts. The end of the bat is broken, wooden shards in its place, and my hands and forearms are coated with droplets of blood.
“Yeah, you’re right.” I drop the bat, slowly take a step back, and let my family go to work. “I’m ending his life, though, nobody but me.”
“You sure you want that? I can have someone do it for you. It’s one thing to beat them to a pulp, it’s another entirely to take a life,” Sylvester says, making it seem as if he’s been in my shoes, and if he has, it’d the first any of us would know about it.
“He’s mine,” I state without an ounce of hesitation. I’ll sleep better at night knowing this piece of shit took his last breath with me taking it all away.
“Alright.” Bellamy pulls a pair of brass knuckles out of his pockets. I didn’t see that coming from a mile away. The old man has more in him than I knew.
“Fuck, yes,” Ezra comments when Bellamy holds Brian by his greasy hair with one hand and punches him with the other. He does this a few more times, showing he’s still spry for a man in his sixties.
“That’s how it’s done, boys. Now it’s my turn,” Parker states. I watch as he and Ezra do their damage, each of them having a fire in their soul about women being hurt, and for good reason. Parker’s mom was abused when he was growing up. He watched it way too often until he could help take control of the situation. Ezra was right there beside him. Neither of them liked watching their mom being hurt. Parker takes the handcuffs off Brian’s hands while Ezra picks up the bat, and they proceed to fuck up his hands hit by motherfucking hit.
“Leave his legs for me,” Boston says. He’s leaning up against a counter, arms crossed over his chest, geared up for battle.
“You fuckers are going to leave me with nothing. I’ll take his stomach,” Sylvester states, a knife twirling in his hand with skillful precision. It seems Sly has been keeping a few things under wraps all these years.
“Your turn,” Ezra says once Brian’s hands are broken, fingers in different positions, a few bones sticking out of the skin.
“Fuck, that felt good.” Parker takes his place beside me, handing Boston what’s left of the bat. My eyes stay on Brian. His head is lolled to the side, and he’s pleading, “No more, please. No more.” His pleas fall on deaf eyes. There isn’t a soul in this room who can save him now. Boston stabs the end of the bat into one thigh, then pulls it out. “Stop, God, Stop!” Boston repeats the process to the other thigh. This time, he leaves it in there.
“Can’t have him bleeding out before your through.” I shrug my shoulders. I’d give him some Narcan to bring him back to life before I send him to hell permanently. Sylvester throws one knife, landing it in Brian’s gut. It stays where he plant it. Another one appears, and he does the same.
“Finish him. This is taking too long as it is. We’ll all need to burn our clothes and shower before we go back to the women.”
“Make it look like arson. Burn the fucker to the ground. Let me know when the money comes through. I’ll be donating it.” I don’t elaborate. I walk toward Brian, taking my time, relishing in the moment I watch the blood and life drain from his veins.
“You’re lucky we made it easy for you. I could have done this for hours upon hours.” Brian gurgles, blood coming from his mouth, and I pull the knife out of his gut that Sly used and slam it into his heart. Silencing him forever.
TWENTY
Danica
“Theo, you really do not need to carry me everywhere. It’s a concussion, not a broken leg.” I’m not getting my point across, it seems. He grunts but has otherwise stayed eerily quiet since I was released from the hospital. I haven’t brought it up, but maybe I should now. “Would you rather I stay somewhere else?” There’s a meekness in my tone that I’m not used to hearing, and boy, do I hate it. It didn’t go unnoticed that when he returned along with the other guys, their clothes were changed and all were freshly showered, damp hair and all. Nessa and Millie mentioned they like to box to relieve stress after a hard meeting, but I’m thinking it’s something else.