Chapter 38
CHAPTER 38
L akeshia
Breathe.
I keep reminding myself to practice the basic action. As I sit between Shinji and Takeshi, I keep my eyes closed and my mind clear. Or as clear as it can be when I’m on my way to attaining the closure my husbands promised me.
After Shinji revealed the news that they imprisoned Paul in one of the family’s seedier buildings, I vacillated between intense rage and terrifying anxiety. But that was last month.
I haven’t gotten over all my apprehension, but I’m able to cope better, and for me, the best thing to rid me of these thoughts is seeing Paul breathe his last.
And because our new Kimura family motto is whatever we want, we get, neither Shinji nor Takeshi try to deny me.
“We can postpone today if you aren’t ready,” Takeshi offers.
I smile and open my eyes to his fierce frown. I stroke his cheek until the lines vanish from his forehead. “A day, a week, even a year from now, what we’re about to do won’t be easy. What will get me through is having my husbands by my side.”
“Always.” Shinji entwines our fingers and kisses my knuckles.
We pull up in front of a building. Shattered glass litters the sidewalk and cardboard covers the empty window wells. The street is in disrepair. Cracks and buckling asphalt and concrete line the way to the entrance.
Takeshi and Shinji bracket me as we enter the squalid building.
“Remember, we get a go at him first.” Takeshi pulls in front and leads to the second floor.
Two men standing guard rise upon seeing us. They step aside for us to enter. A glass partition and door separate the space.
“Stay here and watch. When you’re ready, tap the glass.” Shinji enters and Takeshi follows, slowly closing the door.
Worry darkens his eyes, but his faith in me, in us, prevents him from protecting me from myself.
On the other side of the divider, Paul lies chained to a cot. A thin mattress separates him from the iron springs on the frame.
He takes one look at my husbands and shakes his head. “Not you, anyone but you.” He pulls at his restraints to no avail.
“Aww, do you hear him Keishi-kun? Sounds like he misses us.”
“Let’s see how much.” Takeshi releases his binds, and with Shinji’s help, transfers Paul to a chair they drag in front of me.
Where Paul’s shin should be, there’s nothing. Instead, his legs stop at his knees, both bound in bandages.
After seeing my therapist and talking through my renewed trauma, I’m unhappy to say I’m not fully healed. My heart beats triple time, my skin warms, sweat excretes from my glands, breathing becomes a struggle, and my vision…
“What’s she doing here?” Paul twists from side to side, struggling to free himself.
I can’t… No, I won’t let seeing Paul reduce me to a catatonic state.
Breathe.
I practice the exercises my therapist recommended until my heartbeat slows. Okay, one symptom under control.
“She’s here to end things, one way or the other,” Takeshi says.
“If I were you, I’d be begging for forgiveness right about now.” Shinji squeezes Paul’s shoulder until the man gives up his futile endeavor and closes his eyes in a grimace.
Takeshi and Shinji stand patiently, waiting for a sign from me but I continue my routine until my other senses get online.
I nod toward them, and they stretch their necks and shoulders, preparing for action.
“Ask forgiveness? For making her experience a fraction of the shame, humiliation, and rage I did after what she did to me? Of course, you wouldn’t see my point of view.”
“We wouldn’t?” Takeshi asks, rounding the chair to crouch before Paul, his hands held behind his back. “Because if we’re talking about an eye for an eye, I want to know, back in the day, did you use this hand to drug and hold her down while you took away her choice?” Takeshi produces a Chinese cleaver and flips it in the air, catching it with one hand.
Has he had that the entire time?
“W-what do you mean?” Paul resumes his earlier struggle, but Takeshi holds his hand to the armrest and swings.
Blood sprays over Takeshi’s body. It goes unnoticed while he savors Paul’s screams.
The sound coming from my ex shakes the glass between us, and it’s oddly satisfying watching as his hand falls to the ground and blood spurts unabated.
“Keishi-kun, I think you’re mistaken. This is the hand he used.” Shinji who has a similar knife in hand follows Takeshi’s example and liberates Paul from the burden of his other hand.
I blink back tears because I do feel a part of me healing as Paul suffers through Takeshi and Shinji’s vengeance. Paul’s weeping is a symphony to my ears.
Takeshi hurls the cleaver across the room, embedding it in the wall. From his back pocket, he extracts a smaller, thinner blade. “Now, this next one isn’t a question, because I heard you talk your shit while you held my wife prisoner. These are the lips you used to deceive my wife into trusting you.”
Paul, who hasn’t stopped bawling, twists his face to avoid Takeshi’s grip. But my husband proves more agile. He pinches Paul’s mouth and slices from one end to the other, severing Paul’s lips and throwing them to the ground.
“No fair. Since you got his mouth, I should take the tongue that violated Lakeshia.” Shinji pulls the organ through Paul’s bloody opening and takes Takeshi’s blade to remove the appendage.
Takeshi sighs and shakes his head amid Paul’s gurgling. “You know, your eyes offend me.”
Before my husband gouges out Paul’s eyeballs, I bang on the glass.
He and Shinji frown at me. Me! As if I’m interrupting their fun, which I probably am. But if I’m going to get my piece of flesh, I have to act now. I glare at them and point toward the door.
They clear their faces and direct matching sheepish grins my way.
“Open the door. I’m ready.”
Shinji nods and rushes to let me in.
Paul’s teary gaze lands on me. His face is a grotesque mask, but one many times less frightening than the original that has lived in my nightmares.
“If you take out his eyes, he won’t see me take what I’m owed,” I say without turning from my boogeyman.
“She’s right.” Shinji stands beside me to study Paul. “We always have his nose. I’m sure he savored your scent when he smelled you. You do always smell amazing after all.” Shinji smiles at me.
Paul shakes his head. Without a tongue, only garbled noise emits from his mouth.
Takeshi walks behind him and pushes his head forward. A river of blood pours down his chest.
“Don’t want you choking on your blood too soon.” After showing him a second’s worth of mercy, Takeshi squeezes Paul’s nostrils. “I’m not certain he didn’t also touch you with his nose. You know how I love to rub mine against your soft skin. He takes me as a guy who would do it to remember you couldn’t stop him if you had a choice.”
“If you get his nose, then I?—”
“I’m going to end your pissing contest right now and remind you why we’re here.” I fold my arms and glare at my husbands.
Takeshi has the temerity to return my stare heat for heat. “We’ll leave you something. There’s no reason to take this from us. You didn’t see the way we found you. Do you know how powerless it made us? All we want is to reclaim some of what he took.”
“Fine! If Takeshi takes his nose, Shinji gets his ears. Both of them,” I say when Takeshi opens his mouth to object. “You got two lips, he gets two ears.”
Shinji bows his head to whisper in my ear. “Have I told you you’re my favorite wife?”
I elbow him in the stomach and fight to contain the grin trying to escape and plaster myself in goofiness.
When my husbands finish removing their trophies, I take Takeshi’s knife and hold it against Paul’s chest. “You once told me you loved me with all your heart but your heart is black and filled with lies.” The words spill from my lips, though I don’t know why.
Paul can no longer hear me, but the abject horror in his eyes as I sink the blade into his chest and deep into his heart soothes a part of my soul I never thought I’d get the chance to reclaim.
With the last of Paul’s blood pumping out of his body, I leap into Shinji’s arms and pepper his face with kisses. “Thank you. Thank you.” I scrape my fingers against the fuzzy new-growth on his scalp and he shudders in my arms. His open and honest reaction to my touch always boosts my ego, especially after the last months of the Giametti’s overshadowing every good thing in my life.
My body flies back and spins into Takeshi’s arms. “You may thank me now,” he says while wearing a disgruntled frown.
I grin and lean forward. The blood covering him doesn’t deter me. He looks hotter because of who the blood belongs to.
Takeshi takes issue with how quickly I fulfill his demand. He grabs my throat and slams his mouth against mine, nipping my lip until I grant him entry. He licks and teases, always leaving me hungry and guessing how deep or soft or greedy his next stroke will be.
He releases the pressure on my neck and presses his forehead into mine. His panting breaths feather my face. “That will do until we get you home.”