Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 178117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 891(@200wpm)___ 712(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 178117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 891(@200wpm)___ 712(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
“No! I don’t know why she jumped.” He closes his eyes. “Please, I swear to God, I’m telling the truth. Don’t do this, please! My parents depend on me to make it through university, and I’ll never be able to finish it without functioning hands.”
“You should have thought of that before you messed with her,” I retort.
“It wasn’t my idea!” Suddenly, his eyes widen, and he swallows. “No, no, you didn’t—”
“Hear that?” I grab his collar. “Now we’re finally talking.”
“I lied,” he says.
“No, you spilled the truth by accident. Now tell me whose idea it was.”
“No one,” he says. “I just don’t want you to hurt me. I’ll say anything you want me to.” He’s really sweating it now. “Don’t you know torture only makes people tell you what you want to hear?”
“Hmm … and what is it you think I want to hear?”
“That I’m sorry?” he mutters.
I raise a brow. “Are you? You scared her.”
“I didn’t mean to. I just wanted her to stop searching.”
“Right … You …” I mumble.
“Yes, me.”
“Because there was no one else involved who told you to do this, right?” I pet his cheek with the hammer.
He visibly gulps. “No, no. I was just trying to get out of responsibility.”
He glares at Penelope over my shoulders. “Please. I’m sorry. Make him stop.”
My nostrils flare.
I’m done with his lies.
I drop the hammer, and he literally breathes a sigh of relief.
Too early.
I fish my knife from my pocket, grab his hand, and slice off his finger while he screams for mercy, the sound like music to my ears.
God, I’ve fucking missed this.
He squeals like a pig. “My finger! My finger! Oh my God!”
I hold it up to the flickering light above us, admiring the view of flesh and bone, dripping with fresh, warm blood, right on top of his head.
“You’re insane!” he shrieks.
I grab him by the hair and make him look up at his own goddamn index finger. “No, you are, for lying to my face.” I lower the finger until it’s right above his face. “Now, let’s see … what should I do with this? Send it to your parents?” He shakes his head in fright. “Your little sister who was begging you to pay attention to her?”
“How do you know about her?” His skin turns pale. “Did you go through my phone?”
“You think we wouldn’t?” Dylan pitches in. “You underestimate us.”
“No, no … I think I know what to do with this,” I say, dangling his finger above his face like a wet noodle. “Maybe I should fucking feed it to you.”
His eyes widen, and he vomits all over himself.
I only manage to just pull away before he covers me.
“Fucking gross,” I snarl, stepping away.
“Oh God,” he groans.
“Yeah, better pray to fucking God, all right,” I reply, and I wipe off some of the blood that managed to land on my expensive shirt. “You ruined my clothes.”
“You cut off my finger!” Nathan cries.
“You prefer dying?” I say, clutching my knife.
He vehemently shakes his head.
I move the knife underneath his chin. “You deserve it, though ….”
“I didn’t make that fucking girl jump!” he says. “You’ve got the wrong guy!”
I’m about to slice this motherfucker’s neck.
“Wait,” Pen suddenly says.
I turn to look at her.
Now she chooses to put a stop to it?
“You’re not going to … kill him, are you?” she asks.
My eyes narrow. “Suddenly grew a conscience?”
“I think he’s covering for someone. Killing him will only make it easier for that person to get away with what they did. And you said he was part of the Phantom frat house. They’ll surely come after you guys when they find out.” She pauses. “He’s paid the price for what he did.”
She has a point. A good one too. Which I wish she hadn’t made because I was really looking forward to butchering this asshole.
I look down at my own bloody shirt, the scent of blood riling me up. It’s not nearly enough bloodshed for threatening the girl who belongs to me. But it’ll have to do for now.
I point my knife right at Nathan’s face. “You tell one fucking soul about what happened in this basement, and I will make sure to cut out your tongue and slice your throat personally. Do you understand?”
He nods a few times, shaking heavily.
“Get him out of my sight,” I growl over my shoulder at Dylan.
Dylan frowns. “What? You’re not f—”
“Do it,” I interject, and I step away before I do something we’ll all regret.
“Okay,” Dylan responds, and he starts untying Nathan together with Alistair, who helps him get Nathan under control. They tie his bloody hands together with a piece of rope and escort him up the stairs.
Out of my sight.
Away from my cruel intentions.
But I’ve got my fucking souvenir.
I stare at the bloody finger and tuck it into my pocket, then turn around to face the girl who wanted to know so badly what I was capable of.