Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ace
It’s taking everything in me not to snap the motherfucker’s neck. But I have to wait and be patient. Not only am I in public, watching as the rat lurks the street, his beady eyes following women as they pass by, but I can’t give myself away.
Not yet.
I lean against the streetlamp beside me, my eyes locked on the man I now know as Johnnie Abrams. After my encounter with him three nights ago when he attempted to mug my little bird, I did some digging into him and used my connections to learn everything I could about him.
Nothing of importance turned up. He is nothing but a common street thug who is well-known to the police for his petty crimes, and yet, he still has the ability to stalk the streets, searching for his next victim. But not for much longer once I get my hands on him.
Johnnie leans against the wall of a building beside a dark alleyway, much like the one Paetyn walks every night after work. A cigarette hangs from his lips as he lights the end of it. With it being almost midnight, there aren’t many people walking the streets, which is good for me.
From my spot in the shadows across the street, I watch as he exhales a puff of smoke and pulls out his phone. I’ve been watching him for hours since I followed Paetyn home after work, ensuring she got home safe. Although she knew I was there, she didn’t try to speak to me or even look in my direction. It annoyed me because, after the night we shared together, I had expected there to be a shift between us, but it seems she still wants to play hard to get.
Lucky for her, I’m not one to give up easily on something I want.
This is the first time tonight Johnnie is alone and away from watchful eyes. If he isn’t hanging around with his sleazy friends, laughing like hyenas, then he’s always on the move, walking the streets as if he has no destination in mind.
But now, he’s alone and distracted.
It’s the perfect time to strike.
I push off the streetlamp and shove my hands deep into the pockets of my leather jacket. Sticking to the shadows, I make my way across and approach Johnnie. He’s too distracted laughing at something on his phone and puffing on the cigarette between his teeth to see me coming–or the fist that collides with the side of his face.
A deep groan bubbles from within his throat as his hand flies up to cup his red cheek. His phone clatters to the ground, as does the cigarette. When his eyes meet mine, fear immediately consumes them, and his face falls.
“Y-you—”
“Yes, me. Your worst nightmare.” I grab the front of his stained white T-shirt and land another punch to his swollen cheekbone, smiling when I feel the bone crack under the force. “I believe you fucked with the wrong woman last night, and you’re going to learn what the consequences are for touching what’s mine.”
Blood drips from his face as his eyes widen. “No, no, no—”
With one last punch to the side of the head, Johnnie falls limp in my arms, out cold. I haul him over my shoulder and start the walk back to my car.
I’m going to find out why he attacked my little bird, and the method isn’t going to be pretty, that’s for sure. He will pay for trying to hurt her.
If Paetyn thinks I’m a psycho, then I may as well continue to play the part.
* * *
There is nothing I like more than the pained scream of a man in agony at my touch. In fact, I would go as far as to say it’s my favorite sound, second to Paetyn’s laughter in the rare moments she gives it to me.
Johnnie’s head lolls from side to side. Both dried and fresh blood mar his battered and bruised face. His eyes are swollen to the point he can’t see my fist flying in his direction, and gashes litter his cheeks and nose. His dirty clothes were better off before I got my hands on him, and I would say he’s getting close to being unrecognizable.
And I haven’t even gotten to the good stuff yet.
Since we arrived at my house two hours ago, and I tied him to a chair in the center of my basement, all he has known is pain. I refused to speak, wanting him to sit in constant fear and anxiety as he waits for my next move. I want him to feel as scared as Paetyn was the night he tried to mug her.
I squat in front of Johnnie and scan his deformed features. A grin splits across my face. “Tell me something, Johnnie.”
His voice trembles as he says, “An-anything you w-want. Just p-please don’t h-hurt me anymo-re.” A cough rumbles deep in his throat, and blood splatters on my black jeans, joining the rest of his droplets.
“Why did you attack my little bird, hm? Were you looking for a quick buck to buy more drugs? Alcohol? Or did you want to hurt her because she was at the right place at the right time?”
His shoulders stiffen, his body unmoving as his breathing grows shallow. “I-I don’t—”
“I’m going to stop you right there, Johnnie.” I reach into my back pocket and produce my favorite switchblade. The blade slicing through the air as I flip it open is almost deafening. And now Johnnie is shaking like a leaf. “If you lie to me about your intentions, and trust me, I will know, I won’t hesitate to take your fingers, one at a time, until you tell me the truth.” I stand to my full height, staring down at the rat before me. “Now, answer the question. Why her?”
Johnnie pulls at the rope binding his wrist to the wooden chair, but it’s no use. He’s not fucking going anywhere.
“Pl-please don’t hurt me. I can’t take much—”
His scream pierces the air the moment my blade begins tearing through the tendons of his forefinger. But I don’t get the pleasure of getting all the way through when his voice stops me in my tracks.
“I was paid to do it!”
With my blade halfway through the bone in his finger, I pause, my gaze flicking to meet his sweaty, blood-covered face. “What did you just say?”
“Some guy paid me to mug her, okay?” he explains, his words frantic as he wheezes. “Plea-se believe me.”
“I do.” But just because I believe him doesn’t mean I’m not going to go through with cutting off the rest of his finger. So, I do. The severed appendage falls to the ground at my feet as his painful cries fill the damp basement, his body writhing in agony.
I wipe the bloody blade on my thigh before slipping it back into my pocket. “So, someone paid you. Who?”
Tears stream down Johnnie’s face as he struggles to breathe, snot and saliva mixing with the blood coating his face. “I-I don’t know his name, o-or remember his face.”
“Do you remember anything about him?”
He shakes his head. “He was wearing a hood, concealing his face.” Johnnie groans, his head lulling backward and forward as he fights consciousness. “He… he paid me a hundred bucks to mug her. He even gave me a date, time, and location… but provided no other information.”
I hum as I consider his words. I was hired by an unknown buyer through Enzo to kidnap Paetyn and was given strict instructions not to harm her. That was my only requirement. I thought the job was weird at first but couldn’t pass up the payday being offered. Normally, Enzo has me complete missions that will end in a lot of bloodshed, but this was the first one where I didn’t have to kill anyone, and all I had to do was keep her at the house.
But although the job was completed without a hiccup, I haven’t been able to fully let my little bird go.
Who is out there trying to hurt Paetyn?
If it was the same guy who hired me, why didn’t he go back to Enzo? Johnnie is clearly not a professional like me, just a common street thug, so why the downgrade? With his lack of experience, he could have easily hurt Paetyn if she were to have fought back. He’s lucky I got there when I did. Otherwise, I would’ve killed him on the spot for hurting a single hair on her head.
“Interesting,” I murmur, cracking my split knuckles, relishing in the pain coursing up the length of my forearms. “If you had a name for me or facial features, I would have considered keeping you alive, but you have nothing else to offer me, so therefore, you’re useless.”
Johnnie tries to open his eyes as his body vibrates with fear, but they’re too swollen. “Please do-don’t. I’ll do anything, j-just don’t kill me.”
I lower myself so we’re at eye level. His cut bottom lip quivers as he waits for me to speak or make a move. I simply smile at him.
I wish he knew how much his fear gets me going.
“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you touched what is mine. And now, I’m going to make you regret ever accepting that hundred bucks to hurt my little bird. It’s going to be long and painful, so you better strap in for the ride.”
The moment my fist connects with his broken cheekbone, blood explodes across the room, followed by whimpering and tears.
This better be a lesson to anyone he may have spoken to who thinks they can get their hands on Paetyn. My obsession with her is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. It’s a rush I crave; I need it injected into me like a drug. She is constantly on my mind—her voice keeping me awake at night as I remember the feel of her body against mine and the way she says my name.
I refuse to let any harm come her way. If someone out there is trying to hurt her, they’d better fucking believe I’ll be right there to put an end to it. Mark my words.