41. -40-
Dorian
The forest swallowed the last traces of light, leaving only fractured beams between the branches.
Shadows shifted through the trees, blurring into the darkness.
Damp air carried the scent of earth and decay, while the silence pressed in as if the forest itself were waiting for something to die. Or, in this case, someone.
A small smile grazed my lips as I crossed the distance between the gate and the spot Malin had chosen as the starting point.
He knew this playground like the back of his hand.
Two decades ago, our father had given it to us as a birthday gift.
A vast, secluded stretch of dark forest, enclosed by a ten-foot concrete wall.
We once tested whether we could escape the perimeter. Malin succeeded, so he decorated the wall with barbed wire. Our next attempt ended in the ER with fifteen stitches.
“He’s still out,” Malin grumbled when I sat beside him on a fallen three-trunk. Julien lay in the mud a few feet from us. Zyon’s Cane Corso, Bluff, watched him like he was dinner.
“Happens when you throw someone down the stairs and then hit him with a gun,” I lectured, but a grin was plastered on my face.
“Zyon?” He lifted a questioning brow.
“He briefed me.” I looked up at the strong branches swaying in a light breeze, and saw stars shining above our heads.
“And?”
“And nothing.” I shrugged, still observing the pieces of sky. “I can check some things if you need help, but I don’t have time to—”
“You’re the best negotiator,” Malin interrupted me, his voice rough at the edges. “I hate that shit. My head throbs just thinking about it. They talk so fucking much.”
I burst out laughing at his disgusted expression.
Seriously, in my entire life, I hadn’t met a single person who hated talking and any social contact with strangers more than Malin.
He tolerated his family. I chose to believe he loved us in his own unique way.
But others? Ooooh, fuck. He would strangle them just for breathing too loudly.
“Is this your way of asking me to return?” I teased, even when we both knew it wasn’t possible. My life was at the hospital. Still, I could cut back to part-time work with them.
Something in my chest lit up. Yeah, I fucking missed this.
“I never wanted you to leave,” he admitted, glaring at Julien. “Disposing of bodies with those shit heads is torture. I do it alone mostly. And I don’t even have time to hack for fun.” He pouted. Actually pouted. I almost fell off the log.
What the fuck was happening today? First Zyon, now him!
“Remember when I hacked into the FBI and mixed our father’s file with Al Capone’s?” His lips stretched into a devious grin. “That was fun. A hunt? An investigation? Killings? Also fun. But if I have to go to another meeting with Zyon and some motherfucker…”
He didn’t get to finish because I squeezed his shoulder. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was weighing whether it would be okay to break my hand.
“You talk too much, sunshine,” I said, directing his attention to my face. “Is it that bad?”
“You have no idea.” He sighed, casting me a pleading look he'd learned from me. For a second, it was like glancing in the mirror. “If you ever tell anyone I said this, I’ll deny everything, but,” he shook his head in annoyance, “I miss you there.”
Whatever I wanted to say died on my tongue when a low, painful groan broke through the quiet.
Both of us stilled. Julien shifted in the mud, his fingers twitching before his whole body followed, jerking weakly as consciousness dragged him back.
Bluff lifted his head, ears pricking, a low rumble vibrating in the air.
“W-where…” His voice came out hoarse, and he swallowed hard, panic bleeding into his tone. “Where am I?”
No answer. Malin pushed himself off the trunk, his posture shifting. Not dramatic, not rushed, just… different.
Bluff rose with him, his attention locked, waiting for a command. I followed, brushing dirt from my hands as I stepped closer.
“P-please…” Julien choked, his gaze jumping between us. “I don’t… I didn’t…”
I glanced at Malin, but he didn’t look back. His attention belonged to our prey.
“Run,” he hissed, pointing with his gun into the woods. “It’s your last chance.”
Julien didn’t move. For a second, I thought he didn’t understand. Then something broke. He lurched to his feet, nearly collapsing again before catching himself on a tree, and ran.
Branches tore at his skin as he crashed through the undergrowth. We gave him three seconds, exchanged one look, and split apart. Malin took Bluff with him, waiting for the right moment to unleash his raw power.
The familiar adrenaline rush through my veins made me giddy. I pulled out my knives, catching Malin out of the corner of my eye just a couple of feet away.
He smirked and sent Bluff after Julien. Not more than ten seconds later, a gut-wrenching scream echoed through the forest. Malin whistled, calling the beast back.
“Five hundred that you won’t hit his left knee,” he challenged, his usually emotionless eyes gleaming with depravity.
“Watch and learn, sunshine.” I winked at him and angled toward the sound. The path revealed itself right before me. Broken twigs, disturbed leaves, the faint metallic scent of blood hanging in the damp air, and Julien’s suppressed sobs.
The knife burned in my hand, the demon screaming to make the man pay. I couldn’t agree more.
“Please…” Julien’s crying voice carried through the woods. “Please, I… Aaaargh!”
The knife hit its target flawlessly. The scream resonated around me like a detonation. My eyes zeroed in on Julien as he collapsed to the ground, shaking violently. His hands stretched toward the white embroidered handle of the custom-made blade in his knee, but he didn’t dare to touch it.
“Nice one.” Malin appeared to my right, moving in perfect silence. “Wanna prove it wasn’t just luck?”
The challenge taunted my enormous ego. The second knife begged to be used to demonstrate my skill.
“Pick a place,” I said, moving aside for a better view of Julien’s body. He cried, touching the thin rivulet of blood streaming down his calf.
“Right knee,” Malin replied without hesitation, holding Bluff by his collar because he barely contained himself.
“Shouldn’t you be running?” I yelled at Julien. I enjoyed hitting a moving target more. It was too easy when he sat on the ground like a pile of trash.
“P-please…” he sobbed, standing up. He dragged his injured leg behind him, holding onto the trees for support. “Fuck, PLEAAAAASE!”
Malin’s lips lifted in a diabolical smirk. I moved behind Julien, hiding in the shadows so he didn’t expect anything. His cursing and muffled cries echoed in the air, but his legs gave out two steps later.
I approached him, crouched down, and lifted his head by his sweaty hair.
“What do you think?” I whispered, choosing the words carefully for the strongest impact. “Do you think your daughter felt the same when your friends were raping her?”
“W-what?” he stammered, his irises blown with raw panic.
“You know what,” I snarled, pressing my blade against his dirty cheek. Blood, mud, and tears streaked his face, matching the horror in his eyes. “How do you think she felt?”
I pushed my knife into his flesh, drawing a scream from him.
“Stop!” he begged, clawing at my forearm. “Please!”
“I’m just getting started.” I flashed him a devilish smile and sank the blade deeper. Blood burst from the fresh wound, oozing down his jaw and dripping on his naked chest.
“You son of a bitch!” he yelled, yanking his head away. But he only made another slash appear. The knife grazed his chin and cut his lower lip.
“Idiot.” I stood up and spat on him.
He tried to crawl away, but didn’t get far because the low growl vibrating through the forest froze him in place.
Bluff.
Slowly, Julien turned his head. The massive beast stood a few feet away, muscles coiled, eyes locked on him with a focus that sent chills up my spine.
A quiet whimper escaped Julien's bloodied lips.
“Please…” he rasped, voice breaking. “I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” Malin echoed from behind me in a gravelly whisper, his voice cutting through the night like a poisonous arrow delivering the final blow. “What about,” he tapped his chin with his index finger, pretending to think, “admitting what you did?”
“I… I didn’t—” Julien stuttered, trying to find the words, but Malin interrupted him.
“Confession or death,” he stated simply, pulling out his black gun. “Your choice.”
“Okay,” Julien whispered, yet Malin pushed the safety and stepped closer. “Okay!” he yelled, lifting his hand to shield himself.
“Speak,” I ordered, kicking his injured ankle.
“I… I f-forced… the k-kids to…” He gulped, staring into the barrel of Malin’s charcoal-black gun. “To p-please my friends.”
Malin’s fingers tightened around the handle, but before he could do anything, I struck my knife into Julian’s other knee.
“Fucking bastard,” I hissed, twisting the blade. An earth-shattering scream tore from him, but I didn’t care about anything he felt. I just wanted to make him suffer as much as possible.
“You’ll ruin our fun,” Malin reminded me in a sing-song voice, admiring the mess I created. Julien was barely conscious. His breathing came out in shallow bursts, his hands clutching his thigh desperately.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, standing to my full height. “I got carried away.”
“Understandable.”
Malin circled Julien like a predator ready to pounce, clearly deciding what to do with him. The hunt was over. Even if we left him to his destiny in the forest and he somehow survived, he wouldn’t be able to walk ever again. I made sure of that.
But Malin wasn’t someone who would leave things unfinished. Julien was brought here to pay, and looking at my brother’s expression, I knew he wasn’t done yet.
“Help me move him,” Malin said, grabbing Julien’s arm. I did the same, and we dragged him beneath the tree.