Chapter 52
Finally. Fuck, finally.
Oh, this is the part I live for.
I’ve been waiting for this like a dog chained too long, chewing through its own leash just to get one bite. I’ve been counting down to this.
I’ve played this out so many times in my head I started adding background music.
Entire days, even nights, slowly and detailed—how many pieces I could make him into before I got bored. Sometimes I laughed, sometimes I got hard. Guess it depended on the mood.
Once I imagined nailing his tongue to the floor, asking questions he couldn’t answer just to taste the panic in his eyes. Then peeling his face off, stapling it to the wall like a trophy. Maybe that would make her laugh. It would make me laugh for sure.
People love to kneel for mercy, act like it’s sacred, like it’s something you earn by being good and quiet.
That’s bullshit.
Pain is the real gospel. Pain never lies, never softens the message, never pretends you’re anything but what you are.
And today, I feel chosen.
Today, I’ve got a sermon to deliver, and there’s nothing in this world that could save him.
“Ken doll, I’m talking to you!” Cain barks at me, interrupting my daydreaming.
“What?” I grumble.
He scoffs, his eyes rolling back.
“Are we going?” Judas asks.
Ah, this motherfucker’s ready for bloodshed, and he’s still buttoned up like he’s about to bless the bullets. Black shirt, black slacks, white collar spotless. Priest to the end, even with murder in his eyes. Sanctified, certified, and itching to commit a holy fucking crime.
I cock my head. “You sure you remember how to hold one of those? I mean, you were okay when you trained Cain.” My tone’s lazy, drawling, like I’m bored and need him to entertain me. “Kinda figured your hands would’ve forgotten, after all that time jerking off to old war stories—”
He snaps.
Slams into me, knocks me flat, easily and effortlessly.
I crash into the floor, staring straight down the barrel of a gun.
My gun.
The fuck? When did he—?
Cain laughs under his breath as if he was expecting this, and Grayson shakes his head, pushing his glasses back into place.
Judas leans in, his eyes amused and twisted. There he is. There’s the beast I needed.
“You talk too much,” he hisses.
I chuckle, breathless on the floor. “And you’re finally interesting.”
He holds out his hand, and I take it without a word. He pulls me to my feet, then places my gun back in my hand, not even trying to hide the grin.
“Will you two ever get along?” Cain scoffs, crossing his arms.
“No!” me and Judas say in one voice.
“Boys,” Grayson scolds.
“Relax, I won’t kill him,” I mock, giving Judas a sidelong, playful glance.
As usual, this freak just sits there, calm as hell, like some deranged monk waiting for the apocalypse.
“Where’s your wife?” I ask Cain.
He smirks, rolling up his sleeves. “Safe in the house. And she’s not my wife. Yet. But she’ll come around.”
My eyes roll involuntarily. “Whatever.”
Then my gaze lands on Grayson, and … There it is, that old cocktail of guilt, affection, and regret. He’s the father I never fucking asked for but somehow got anyway. That poor bastard did his best.
He gave me what scraps of guidance he could and pointed me in a direction that wasn’t straight to hell.
And I repaid him by being a little bastard at every turn. Still do. Still sharp-tongued, still bitter, still clinging to grudges like they’re sacred relics. I don’t make room for forgiveness.
He took every punch I threw, emotional or otherwise, and never once threw me out. That pisses me off almost as much as it breaks me. Because I don’t deserve that kind of loyalty. Never have. Probably never will.
“What about you?” I nod. “Will you help me?”
He looks at me for a second longer. “Always, trouble. What do you want me to do?”
My grin stretches. “Open the doors for me, and I’ll burn it all down. Can you do that, old man?”
His smirk curls into something unhinged. Something new for him.
“I can crack the gates of hell, boy. Say the word and their whole system goes down.”
Yeah, that’s Grayson.
He hugs you like a father, snaps a guy’s arm without even blinking, then says it’s been a pretty chill day.
“Then let’s have some fun, boys.”
We three ride to that fucker’s mansion. I’m sure he’s been jerking off to the idea of me coming since I ripped that tracker out of Isabella and kept it blinking in my pocket.
People run their mouths, say walking into Calvano’s nest is just digging our own grave with steak knives.
They’re probably right. I don’t give a shit.
I didn’t need more men.
We’re not walking in with a plan. Just the three of us, because we’re fucked up enough in the head that, in the end, that’s enough.
I trust these two bastards like I trust my own heartbeat.
They went through military training that fucked them up in ways most people can’t even imagine.
Shitty, I won’t disagree.
They came out soldiers. I came out a freak that didn’t stay down.
They’re dangerous. I’m fucked in the head. That’s the difference.
We roll up to the big bad entrance and kill the bikes.
I throw a wink and a bastard grin at the camera because I know someone’s watching, and then I shoot them all.
The heavy steel door creaks open like I just hit the damn switch with lead.
Grayson’s freaky little tricks already did the job, so I don’t have to lift a finger.
I get off the bike and march straight through the garden with guns locked in my hands and my pulse going apeshit.
“Holy shit, they’re inside already,” someone shouts. “Grab your guns and move your asses now.”
People come at me from all sides, and I meet them head on without slowing down.
“Guns aren’t working!” another one barks.
Good thing Calvano is a control freak who couldn’t trust his own people without a leash built into their guns. Grayson kills the system, and every weapon in their hands goes dead at once.
Now let’s see how badass these assholes feel with nothing but their hands to save them.
“We need backup now,” the fucker yells into his phone.
I shut him up by slitting his throat, blood spraying on me as he gurgles and collapses.
I got a bit hard.
“Come to uncle Adam, bitches.”
Someone lunges at me, and I rip the knife off my thigh and whip it straight at his skull. I hear it crack and watch him drop like a sack of shit.
I drop a few myself, enjoying how fast it all goes bad for them.
The rest get erased by the boys behind me, keeping my ass covered while I push forward.
After we finish reinforcing the garden, I stand there, pulling air into my lungs, while I stare at the carnage. Ah, the smell of absolution.
The place looks like a battlefield. I can taste blood sitting thick on my tongue. I run it across my teeth and smile proudly to myself.
I caused this chaos. Chaos makes me feel alive.
“Was that it?” Cain says, voice dripping with mockery as he lifts a brow at me.
“Are you tired already, brother?” I mock, dragging my bloodied hand through my hair, smearing it across my scalp.
Then I hear angry steps on the grass coming straight at me.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I bark, my eyes widening for a split second. “How did you …”
“You underestimated me,” Isabella says, defiant and visibly pissed. “I’m coming with you.”
“You’re not coming,” I scoff, already turning my back.
“I am.”
I roll my eyes and let out a sharp breath, turning back to her. “I said …”
Her fist cracks across my face.
My head snaps to the side. I go still for a second, tongue pressed against my cheek.
She actually swung on me.
That’s my fucking girl.
“Ouch,” Cain mocks.
Judas claps once. “Finally, I’m having fun tonight.”
“I’m so fucking turned on right now,” I say, a little surprised at how true that is.
She pulls a knife and presses it against my throat, brows pulled down hard. “I said, I’m coming with you.”
I fucking love how fearless she is when she stands up to me.
My surprise flips into filthy pride, dragging a slow smirk across my mouth. She just reminded me exactly why she’s mine.
“All right, little orchid.”
She lets me go, and I lift my hands slow, almost casual, eyes locked on her—I can’t look anywhere else, even if I tried.
“How the hell did you even break free?” Cain asks.
She flashes the cuffs and the knife, looking proud as hell. “You’re gonna need a new bed.”
I can’t help the grin that pulls at my mouth. She wrecked her way out instead of waiting, because she chose violence and didn’t hesitate.
I look at her like she owns a piece of this chaos with me. She walked into my world and didn’t back down. That possessive respect burns in my chest.
She’s the best fucking decision I ever made.