Chapter 29 #2
“Well, you don’t need to do it ever again. Where did you hide it?”
He opens his mouth, showing me the small cut on the inside of his cheek and the scarring from the other times he’s hidden a razor blade in his mouth. A child hid a razor blade in their mouth to weaken grown fucking men.
I take a deep breath to calm myself. “Promise me you won’t do it again.”
“Promise.”
I leave the bathroom, making sure the door is closed behind me.
When I killed the other cunt, I thought there was only one of them who hurt him.
Death hasn’t spread the message he’s not to be touched so I need to be more creative.
The water turns on as I say through the door, “Don’t come outside until I tell you, okay? ”
“Okay,” he mumbles back.
The guard still has his mask on as I pinch the blade between my finger and thumb.
He applies pressure to the wound on his side, but there’s no fear as I approach him and lower to my haunches.
He’s not worth speaking to so I press my knee into him, just above where the knife is.
The weak grunt is like music to my ears as I peel his mask off to reveal a normal face.
He’s young, younger than me. But not young enough to claim ignorance for his crimes.
I apply more weight to his abdomen as I grip his hair, forcing his head against the floor.
The point below his hairline opens up as I dig the sharp corner of the blade into his skin.
He swallows his screams while I put more force into the blade until the thick edge is scraping against his bone, then slowly drag it down over his brows.
The motherfucker squints, weakly trying to push me off as I reach his eye.
Yet he bites his tongue to mute his scream while I fulfill Kid’s request. “You’ll never look at him again. ”
My fingers slip against the smooth, bloody metal when I reach his cheekbone. I leave it there to wipe my hands, but he snatches it and opens his mouth. Bringing my other knee down, I slam it into his jaw, trapping his mouth so he can’t close it.
He’s managed to cut his tongue, but I pick the blade out of his filthy mouth then do the same to the other side of his face as he shakes to suppress his scream. I push my knee further into his cheek, forcing his lips apart to give my boy screams as music.
“You’ll never laugh at him again.”
My voice sounds like it’s underwater as I pinch his bottom lip in my free hand then run the blade into the seam of his lips in a downward motion.
It’s not sharp enough to do it in a clean cut, but I don’t give a fuck about minimizing his pain, so I continue hacking at the flesh until his bottom teeth are exposed.
Then I do the same to his top lip as the shower stops running.
Taking my knees off the fucker, I move back and grab the handle of the knife sticking out of him, twisting as I pull it free. I throw it on the other side of the room before holding his arms to drag him away from the door. I pull him out of the room, leaving a crimson trail of blood as I go.
“Nephew,” Rowan says from behind me.
“The boy belongs to me,” I say, dropping the cunt to face him. “Get control of your men or I’ll be forced to teach them.”
He wars between pride and offense like I thought he would. For someone so encapsulated in mystery, he’s transparent as fuck. Without his control, he’s nothing. Weak men control others. True strength is being able to control yourself. I should know, since I’m the former whenever it comes to Delilah.
I control myself as I stand opposite him, tempering the urge to wrap my bloodstained hands around his fucking neck, killing the cunt who ordered my torment.
The guard finally opens his mouth. He sounds younger than he looked before I carved into his face as he mutters, “I did what I was told.”
Rowan stiffens as I stare at my own face in his mirror mask, demanding, “Who told you to enter my room?”
This motherfucking cunt. It’s why he kept me in the security room, because he has to have power over every little thing.
I don’t need the guard to answer, which he doesn’t as he stares at his master, who calmly retrieves a knife from his pocket.
I nearly laugh because it’s tiny, clearly unused too, but he holds it between his thumb and forefinger as he says, “I can show you mercy. It’s your choice. ”
Another minute detail about his character is revealed without him even realizing.
He’s uncomfortable with causing violence.
He keeps his hands clean because he’s inept.
The mask gives him an air of mystique, one he uses to perpetuate the illusion he’s capable of harm. In reality, he chooses a mental arena.
Fuck, he’s just like Asher.
Asher would never fight like a normal person.
Some kid dinged his car with their bike so he made them think he was going to kill them until they agreed to act like a dog.
The gun wasn’t even real. It was an empty spray-painted pellet gun he held to the kid’s crotch.
He’d hold onto every insignificant slight, then ruin the person’s life.
Someone accidentally called him my name, bullied until she developed an eating disorder.
We’re identical fucking twins, so it’s an expected mistake.
Mom forgot to attend one of his school meetings, so he made her think Dad was cheating on her by hiding a cum-filled condom in the car.
Small chips are fractures to weak egos, so they—Asher and Rowan—have to react disproportionally to soothe themselves.
The guard shakily grips the knife, but I wrap my fingers around his wrist because it will piss Rowan off, just like Asher used to on the rare occasion I’d get into a physical altercation.
The mask can’t hide his inadequacy as his shoulders tense while I reach around the guard’s head and force my fingers past his teeth to pinch his tongue.
Once I’ve pulled it out as far as it will go, I saw through the muscle with the middle of the blade.
Kid didn’t want them to laugh or look at him. The last one wasn’t enough of an impact, so now they’ll watch this fucker die slowly with the reminder of what will happen to them if they attempt to go near him. Rowan knows he’s nothing too. Both purposes are served.
I drop the knife along with the fleshy stub of his tongue as I look at Rowan.
“I’m sure you’ll want to cauterize it so he doesn’t bleed to death.
Then you can show how merciful you were towards him after he went against you.
” I nod, smiling as though he’s answered.
“Of course you will, dear uncle. How else will the others learn not to disobey you?” I turn, leaving him in the hallway and making sure the bathroom door is still closed.
Delilah was right; we can’t do anything without playing their game.
Everything I do will be in the Kobalt name until I wipe the stain out of existence.
Then when there are no Kobalts left, I’ll walk away as Kane Xandros with my kid and he’ll never know anything close to fear for as long as he lives.