Chapter Nineteen
Reaper
I can't stop thinking about that guy at the club. The frat boy who thought it was okay to put his hands on Charlotte and continue his advances even when she refused him.
The raging fire in me wanted to end him right there in front of everyone, but I couldn't be impulsive. I had to be patient. I had to wait. One broken finger wasn't enough to satisfy me but it had to be enough for the moment.
His eyes snap open from sleep and grow wide as he meets my harsh stare. He grabs a hold of my wrist, trying to pry it off his mouth, but the poor guy doesn't have the strength to go against me. I grab a hold of one of his flailing arms, giving a rough twist with pressure. It snaps, and I roll my eyes in pleasure at the sound as he howls under my palm still covering his mouth. I release him and he scrambles to the other side of the bed, holding his limp arm.
“Help! Someone help me! What the fuck do you want!” he yells.
“You touched something you shouldn't have. Something that belongs to me ,” I say with a low steady voice.
“What? What are you talking about man? I don't know you!”
“We met a couple nights ago. At Red Escape.” I catch the moment when he remembers. He begins to panic even more. “How’s your finger, Chad?”
“I'm sorry, man! I didn't know she was taken! Please, I’m fucking sorry. Don’t kill me!”
“Unfortunately for you, I've discovered you have a habit of touching things that aren't yours. Your fate was already sealed, but I gotta say, discovering that little news makes this so much more satisfying. You should keep your hands to yourself, Chad.”
I launch at him and he screams out, bracing himself for my wrath.
I don't make him suffer for long. The worst was over fairly quickly, but once poor Chad was dead, I cut off his hands, sliced his mouth further open and shoved his severed appendages into his mouth.
“You really should keep your hands to yourself.”