Freezing Bonds that Tie our Hearts (Blood and Water #2)

30. Bonus Scene

Aiden

The cold dark room reeked of mold and blood. The air felt thick and heavy on my skin, making me shudder. You could hear the sounds droplets of rain made as they ran along the small window. The humid atmosphere made my long-sleeved shirt cling to my chest.

The only source of light in the room came from that window, which meant I could barely see the woman as she prepared her tools.

She stood in front of a wooden table, contemplating which knife would be better for what she had in mind.

They called her Medusa.

Some described her as a blood-thirsty killer, others as an enforcer.

To me, however… she was my aunt’s best friend.

Aunt Camila’s words, not mine.

And I wasn’t sure the brunette in front of me would agree, but still.

“Mhh.. what should we chose? The cleaver would probably be more efficient, could do more damage.” she let her fingers dance against the blade, “But it’s also fucking messy. I’m not in the mood to scrap your Goddamn flesh off my floor, you see?”

I gulped at her words.

Grabbing what looked like a petty knife the woman turned around, facing the piece of shit strapped to her chair, as I continued to watch from the shadows. The man was squirming like a pig. Black hair speckled with white stuck to his forehead, drenched in blood and sweat. Dirt and tears stained his stubbly cheeks and his orange jumpsuit was torn, blood seeping through it on some places.

When he saw the knife in her hands, he stopped moving and his eyes widened.

“Who—who are you? Fucking psycho!” He sputtered, spit flying around as sweat now covered his entire face.

I smirked as she pricked her finger with tip of the knife drawing just a little, perfect, droplet of deep red.

If so little pressure could already do that, just imagine how easy it would be to stab someone with that thing.

The woman chuckled at his words.

“I prefer the term artist.” she answered, a cunning smile in her voice.

The click of her heels echoed around the empty basement as she slowly made her way to him, hips swinging from side to side.

Once she was close enough, she grabbed a handful of his greasy hair and violently pulled so that he was looking up at her. I couldn’t look away from the scene. Fright shone in his disturbed, empty, orbs but I knew she wouldn’t kill him. Yet. That man didn’t deserve to live but he also didn’t deserve a quick death. No.

He would suffer.

“But unfortunately for you, you will not be one of my works of art, Harrison Kerill.”

“What?”

That’s when I chose to get out of the shadow, looking directly into the eyes of the man who had turned my life and that of my people into hell a year ago.

As soon as he saw me, Kerill froze. His eyes widened, like he couldn’t believe I was here, a ghost from his past.

It took me a year, but I had managed to put a word on that thing I had been feeling after Oscar’s death. The emotion clogging my throat and making it hard for me to breath.

It was revenge.

I wanted it so bad it hurt.

And now, thanks to some favors I called in, I was about to get it.

Medusa had gone and fetched him straight from the state prison where he was rotting at.

She made it pretty clear that she couldn’t stand me, or men in general, but still she’d done me that favor because of Camila, Alessandro’s sister. My aunt.

When she learned about me and everything that had happened in Olympe, Camila approached me asking about what I planned on doing.

I was confused at first but when she smiled and said, “What, are you going to let him live?” I understood where she was getting at.

In the small time I’d been there, I had heard rumors around town about her husband and his family. Word was that they’re some kind of mercenaries. Killers. My aunt’s bloodthirsty reaction kind of confirmed it.

Still, I was glad she asked. Because the answer to her question was no.

Kerill didn’t deserve to live, and he wouldn’t. But he had to suffer before.

Coming here tonight, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to go through with it. I wasn’t sure I had it in me to take a life.

All it took was one look at the piece of shit strapped to that chair for me to know.

I did have it in me to kill.

Silently grabbing the knife from Medusa’s outstretched hand, I made my way to my former professor.

“Aiden,” he breathed, eyes bulging in bewilderment, “Aiden, please, you’re not a killer.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what I am or not.”

“I-I’m sorry! I swear I regret everything I’ve done—”

“Fuck off.” My hand flew of its own volition as assailed the first cut onto his skin.

He cried out and the sound was almost…. pleasant. A small smile stretched my lips as I looked down at the knife clutched in my hand.

“This is for Oscar, for Rory, and for all the fucking kids whose life and childhood you stole. Monsters like you don’t deserve any mercy.”