8. Breaking Point #2
He looked down as the man's eyes rolled back in his head, and Ian sighed with frustration. "Dammit. I needed his lungs..." he said, snapping his fingers. A man in a lab coat quickly approached. "He's useless to me now. Bring me the senator in room 32."
While the corpse was removed, Ian faced the choir. "Get out. Strings stay."
The choir filed out of the room while Ian pulled off his gloves and sat down at the piano. "...follow my lead..." he ordered the remaining violinists.
Ian's bloodstained fingers danced rapidly across the piano keys, a dark melody cracking the atmosphere. The violinists' tune immediately fell in line with his melody as a harrowing symphony overwhelmed the room.
Ian closed his eyes and saw Deja. His fingers moved faster, his tune angrier and more aggressive as the violinists struggled to keep up.
"Irritate me! That's all she does is irritate me!" he growled, his fingers slamming against the keys. "The fucking audacity! How can I get anything done when she's-"
Ian loudly banged on the keys with his fists as the music drastically stopped.
"...I'm not sure whom I hate more… her… or myself..." Ian laughed ironically, standing from the piano.
The door opened, and another victim was wheeled in and placed on the table. Ian dismissed his assistant and stared down at the drugged senator. "Before I petrify your body, I have a question for you, senator," Ian started. "...Have you ever… been in love?"
The senator looked at Ian, startled. "What kind of question is that? Are you a fucking psychopath?!"
Ian sighed with disappointment as he grabbed a pair of scissors and dug two fingers into the senator's mouth to grasp his tongue. "Yes, I am. But that wasn't the question," Ian said, cutting his tongue in half. The senator screamed as blood gushed from his mouth.
"And now, I don't care to hear what you have to say," Ian sighed, tossing the tongue into the pan. "Fucking useless..."
Ian went to wash his hands when his phone buzzed. His eyes squinted at the screen before they rolled in frustration.
"...I should have been an only child..."
With his hands in the pockets of his long black coat, Ian casually walked up the stairs of the eerily silent house. Passing the blood-splattered walls, he stepped over several dismembered bodies before reaching the master bedroom.
Ian pushed the door open until a faceless, naked woman covered in blood collapsed from behind the door. He scanned the suite littered with dismembered limbs and corpses, bleeding into the carpet.
The room was heavy with the stench of blood, alcohol, and marijuana as heavy metal music played loudly.
Ian walked over the dead bodies until he spotted Keith dancing in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror, wearing only blood-soaked jeans.
His torso, arms, and neck were coated in so much blood that his tattoos and scars were barely visible.
A blood-splattered mask covered Keith's face that he slipped a joint beneath to smoke.
Ian tilted his head to the side, staring at his brother curiously. His mask looked… peculiar. "...Keith..." Ian spoke over the music.
Still swaying, Keith pointed his machete, coated in flesh and blood, at the mirror. "Do you think if I say her name 5 times… she'll show up..." Keith's deep voice rasped. "Like the fucking boogeyman?"
Ian snorted. "...don't think it works like that..."
"Let's try anyway." Keith approached the mirror. "Deja… Deja… Beautiful Deja… Fucking… annoying… sexy-as-shit Deja."
"That was only 4 times..." Ian noted.
"Was it…?"
Ian sighed, looking around at all the carnage. "This is excessive, Keith. Even for you."
Keith laughed. " Excessive ? I'm doing my part to rid this world of those who don't deserve to be here. Moladh Roselyn, motherfuckers ! "
Shaking his head, Ian felt someone grab his foot and looked down to see another faceless woman. Ian was surprised she was still alive after how badly her face had been mutilated.
"...why remove their faces?" Ian asked.
Keith's fingers traced through the blood on his chest before pressing the burning part of his joint into his skin. "...none of them looked like her… so fucking disappointing..." Keith said absentmindedly as his skin sizzled. "I wonder… you think she misses me...?"
"Probably not," Ian said, crouching down.
Keith sucked his teeth. "Fuck her," he seethed. "And fuck this contract. I could be in her stupid-little apartment in her stupid-little neighborhood knocking down her stupid-little door and fucking the shit out of her in less than 5 hours."
"You'll do no such thing," Ian said. He gently grabbed the faceless woman's head, hushing her calmly. "It's going to be all right," he said softly before snapping her neck.
"If she wants a romantic, I can be fucking romantic. I'll take her ass wherever the fuck she wants. I'll give her whatever the hell she wants. I will kill-I will fucking kill whoever the fuck she wants," Keith snapped.
"You know what will happen if you do," Ian warned, standing to his feet.
"Like I give a shit," Keith said, angrily turning around. Ian tilted his head back, finally realizing why Keith's mask looked strange. He peeled off the face of the dead woman on the ground from Keith's mask and dropped it.
"...did you take anything?" Ian asked.
"Maybe… why?" Keith muttered.
"...the last time you wore someone's face, it was because you almost overdosed," Ian reminded him.
"...I'm fine..." Keith said, turning back around. "...she was the governor's sister."
Ian sighed. "Why-"
"She and her gang of vapid cronies made 15.5 million, selling 732 migrant children who had been separated from their parents so she could pay for a nose job, lip injections, and cheek implants," Keith said, twirling his machete. "So I took the bitch's face."
Ian rubbed his temples in frustration. "Keith… I need you to find another fucking coping mechanism. I can't keep cleaning up your messes."
"Then don't," Keith said flippantly.
"You raided the house of a politician's sister and massacred everyone," Ian said, annoyed. "In broad fucking daylight."
"I know," Keith chuckled. "It was fun. 10/10.
Would do it again." Keith abruptly turned on Ian.
"She's the one who invited me over. Faceless down there.
Invited me to hang out with her and her friends.
She was all over me, touching me and shit.
She wanted me badly. She was begging me to fuck her brains out. "
Leaning back against the mirror, Keith snickered. "Carving her up was such a fucking turn-on. You know what Deja would have done-"
"Turn you down," Ian sighed.
Keith grinned, his eyes glazing over with lust. "Play hard to get like she can't stand me-"
"She can't stand you-"
"False. She wants me. Just as badly as I want her."
"Keith," Ian sighed, heading for the exit. “Your level of delusion astounds me.”
"Ian, listen to me," Keith blocked him. "I need to see her. Talk to her. Touch her. I can't do this shit-"
"And you think I can?" Ian snapped. "There hasn't been a second that's gone by when I haven't thought about her. But you don't see me being fucking reckless !"
"Then, we'll go together-"
"No," Ian said sharply.
"Why. Not ?!" Keith snarled. "What's stopping us from disrupting her small-town utopia and dragging her ass back here? I don't give a shit about the consequences. I'll lock that ass up and make sure she never leaves us again."
Keith shoved his fist into the mirror, shattering it. Running his bloody fingers through his hair, Keith plopped down on the blood-soaked bed with his head in his hands. "I hate her. But goddammit I-I fucking need her!"
Ian took a tentative breath before sitting down next to him. "...I understand..." he sympathized. "Why don't you shower. And we'll figure something out..."
"Caleb, stop!" Deja laughed, dodging his tickles.
"No more comments from the peanut gallery," Caleb grinned as he got on his back to finish assembling the crib.
Chewing her bottom lip, Deja's eyes roamed over his tall, lean, muscular physique. Several tattoos sparsely covered his masculine frame. He had been at her apartment for over two hours and still moved with high energy, like a true blue-collar man.
"Think that's enough for today," Caleb said, standing up. "Hungry?"
After Caleb ordered Chinese food, the two cuddled up on Deja's couch to watch a movie. "Mmm. Their dumplings are really good," Caleb said, using chopsticks to pick one up. "Try one."
Deja parted her lips as Caleb placed one into her mouth. She chewed, humming with satisfaction. "It is good," she nodded. "Just give me the whole thing-"
"Hey! Greedy McCreadie!" Caleb said, snatching his food as Deja laughed.
"Whatever! You eat like a monster!"
"I'm a big boy, Deja! I gotta eat!" Caleb grinned.
Shaking her head, Deja placed her food down. "Boy is right. Look at all this sauce on your face. You're like a child. You should have used a fork."
"Nah, I needed to show you how good I am with chopsticks."
"Which is not at all," Deja teased, absentmindedly wiping his mouth with her thumb. She froze when she realized what she was doing. "Uh-s-sorry-" she started before Caleb suddenly took her thumb between his lips and sensually sucked her finger into his mouth, while holding her gaze.
Deja's eyes widened as Caleb grabbed her waist and smothered her lips with his. She sank into the couch as Caleb hovered above her, his mouth moving desperately against hers, their tongues wrestling. His hands grabbed her hips before sliding down her thighs, tugging at the waistband of her pants.
He tenderly kissed her chin before burying his face in her neck, sucking at the soft flesh. "Caleb..." Deja exhaled, her fingers digging into his hair. Her legs widened as he settled between them, pulling at her clothes.
"What the fuck are you doing?!"
Deja abruptly pushed Caleb off of her until he sat back on the couch. Breathing heavily, Caleb looked at her, confused. "Are you okay?"
Deja breathed shakily as Jax's voice echoed in her mind. "...I'm sorry-I-I c-can't..."
Caleb shook his head. "Don't apologize. It's okay. I'm the one who should be sorry. I didn't mean to-I just couldn't-I'm very attracted to you, as you can see by the way I can't speak."
Deja chuckled as Caleb smiled sympathetically. "...I'm sorry..." she sighed. "I'm just-"
"You don't have to explain yourself," Caleb reassured her, carefully dismounting her. "I should probably go anyway… before I… do something I regret."
Deja followed him to the door. "Thank you for coming," she smiled.
Caleb groaned. "Awful word choice," he said as Deja laughed. Grinning, Caleb placed a soft kiss on her cheek before heading to the elevator.
Sitting on the couch, Deja scrolled through her laptop, reading old articles on the town. She was curious why there were so many amputees.
But even more so… she needed a distraction from the disturbing realization that she missed the Donovans. She missed Ian's sensual tenderness. Keith's erotic chaos. Jax's protective dominance.
Jax's voice echoed in her mind, reminding her she belonged to him. It drove her crazy.
Trying to shake them out of her head, she skimmed an article about a chemical spill that had infected the town's water supply, causing the rapid death of blood cells and leading to loss of limbs.
It was a strange phenomenon. Why hadn't anyone been sued?
Deja grabbed her phone to text Caleb about it when her eyes widened. There were several pictures on her phone that weren't there before.
Of her in the shower. This was blatant stalking. But how? How did they manage to get these pictures on her phone without her knowing?!
Deja's jaw tensed with anger.
Torrence shuffled to his door, where he heard rapid knocking. "Hold the fuck on!" he shouted. Swinging the door open, he saw an angry Deja standing on the other side. "The fuck you want?"
"Are you stalking me?!" Deja snapped.
"The hell?"
"I know it's you!" Deja snarled. "Breaking into my apartment! Snapping pictures of me in my sleep, you sick fuck!"
Torrence's face turned red. "This is why I never rent to your kind. Buncha crazy thugs. Get the fuck out of here before I call the police," he said, closing the door.
"Oh, please! Please call the police!" Deja snapped, shoving his door back open. "So I can tell them how you're stalking me," she said, storming inside.
"Get the hell out!"
"Not until you admit that you've been illegally breaking into my apartment and taking pictures of me! What is wrong with you?!"
Torrence laughed as he walked into his kitchen. "You've got some nerve stormin' in here makin' fuckin' demands. When I should be chargin' you for two!"
Deja looked at him, startled. "...excuse me?"
"I know your monkey ass is pregnant. You people breed like fuckin' cockroaches. And to think I actually planned on fucking you. That's all I need is more of yuh on my damn property! Matter of fact, I think it's time I ended your lease," he threatened.
Deja looked at him in pure shock. "You… are so… fucking … disgusting !"
"Right back atcha, bitch. Now, how 'bout you take your used-up, welfare-queen baby mama drama shit on outta here. I'm endin' your lease-"
Torrence's eyes widened as he looked at Deja and saw that she had shoved one of his kitchen knives from his counter deep into his stomach. Deja sneered as she twisted the knife. "Cockroaches… says the fucking human waste of space," she sneered, ripping the knife out of his stomach.
Torrence clutched his bleeding stomach as blood spilled through his fingers. He staggered out of the kitchen towards his living room.
Wielding the bloody knife, Deja turned and followed him. He tripped over his rug and screamed out as Deja violently sliced him across his back until his body collapsed to the floor.
Blood seeped from the corners of his mouth as he crawled on the ground, crying hysterically, trying to escape the crazy pregnant woman stalking him.
But Deja crouched and rammed the knife into his calf. "Still wanna fuck the welfare queen, you racist ass bitch?!" she growled, violently ripping his skin all the way up his calf to the back of his knee.
Torrence screamed in agony as Deja forced him onto his back and mounted him. "P-please!" he begged, raising his hand to protect himself before Deja sent the knife straight through his palm. She ripped out the knife, splattering his blood before she drove the knife deep into his chest.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Blood splattered her enraged face until she finally wore herself out. Deja breathed heavily, trying to catch her breath as she stared down at Torrence's lifeless face.
Her face slowly fell as her eyes widened.
"...fuck..."