Chapter 29 #2
Perfect.
“Knock, knock,” I call out as I step further inside the room.
Zach jumps up from the couch. “What the fuck? Who are you?” His brow lowers as he looks us over. He pulls his shoulders back, making his chest broaden slightly. “ Oh , it’s you.” He sneers. “I don’t suppose you brought her home?”
“Get a load of this guy.” Hash laughs. “Fuck no, we didn’t bring her home, boy.”
Zach’s eyes flash so quickly with disbelief that I almost missed it. He really thought she was going to run back to him.
A slow smile creeps onto his face. The kind you get when you think you have the upper hand.
“I’m calling the police. I’ll have you each on breaking and entering and harassment.” Zach reaches into his back pocket to pull out his phone.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I tell him at the same time, a gun cocking sounds throughout the room, making him freeze.
Cyrus has his gun aimed right at Zach’s phone.
“My brother here is usually a pretty good shot, but well, everyone has an off day, right? Is that what you were having when you thought you could waltz onto my territory and leave my woman a fuckin’ note? ”
His eyes flare at hearing me call her my woman.
“You can have her.” He sneers. “I saw her. She looks like trash. I guess it makes sense, since she’s slumming it with you now.”
Cyrus tsks. “You really shouldn’t have said that, man.”
On the outside, I look like I’m having a stroll through a fuckin’ park, but on the inside, I’m raging.
Reaching behind to my back pocket, Zach yells, “Don’t shoot me!”
Tilting my head, I cock a brow at him. “What the fuck? I’m not goin’ to shoot you.” He looks relieved, his shoulders visibly sagging. “ I just want a smoke and to have a little chat. Shooting you is too fuckin’ easy.”
Zach’s eyes are frantically darting between the gun Cyrus still has aimed at him and the cigar I’m lighting up. Passing it off to Hash, who takes a long drag, I light up another one.
“You need to leave,” Zach orders as he shifts his weight between both feet. He’s getting antsy.
Not so tough anymore, are we?
A cloud of smoke blows past me, heading straight for Zach that has him coughing and waving it away from his face.
“Can you not smoke in my house?” he asks, annoyed.
“Our bad.” I smile, showing my teeth as I approach him. “Were you not smokin’ when you put the burns on my girl’s back?”
Zach pales. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t,” I patronize. “Those scars on her spine just appeared out of nowhere, huh?”
“Take it up with her dad. I had nothing to do with it.” He shrugs, unable to meet my eyes.
Taking a long drag from the cigar, I blow the smoke right in his face. “He’ll get what’s comin’ to him for pawnin’ his daughter off to a piece of shit like you, but right now, you’re my concern.”
“I said you can have her. I won’t bother her again.” Zach swallows.
“You should have thought about that before you tracked her down and beat the shit out of her. Me and my brothers don’t take kindly to men that hurt women. Especially when that woman is mine.”
“It’s water under the bridge. You won’t hear from me again, I promise. It will be like I didn’t even exist. You and your friends can leave, and I won’t call the cops. I promise.” He’s trying so hard to hold it together but can’t keep a little light begging out of his voice.
“You’re making a lot of promises for a man that doesn’t have a leg to stand on,” Cyrus tells him .
I nod my head. “My brother is right. I don’t give a fuck what you promise me. Take your shirt off.”
“I might be outnumbered, but I don’t swing that way, sorry. I’m not taking my shirt off for you.” Zach’s lips turn up in disgust.
“It wasn’t a request,” I tell him, voice hard. I’m done fucking around with him.
Zach takes one step back as he puts his hands out in front of him. “Let’s just all calm down for a minute. I’m sure we can reach some sort of deal.”
Hash and Cyrus snort behind me.
“This is me being calm. Nothing you have interests me. Maybe for the first time in your life you should do as you’re told.”
“I have money,” he pleads. “Lots of it. I can write you a check right now.”
Snapping my fingers, I point at him. “Hash, hold him down.”
Hash moves in as Zach starts walking backwards until the back of his legs hit the couch with nowhere else to go. Hash laughs as he yanks Zach’s arms behind him, locking them there.
“Not so big and bad now, are we?” I ask with a humorless laugh. Hash is close to twice his size, towering over him. Zach is trying hard to get out of the hold, but Hash isn’t fazed.
Pulling out my pocketknife, I flip it open, twirling it around in my hand. Without warning, my arm dashes out, pressing the tip of the blade near his trachea.
Zach lets out a scream that makes the adrenaline pump harder through my body.
Dragging the blade down, careful to only apply enough pressure to barely cut the skin, I slice his shirt down the middle, breaking the skin as I go.
Crimson liquid trails after me, alternating between dripping on the floor and sliding between the waistband of his pants.
His screaming turns more high pitched, making all of us wince.
“Jesus fucking Christ, shut up! You sound like a squealing bitch.” Hash shakes him. “What is up with that tonight? ”
Zach stops screaming as he looks at me with frantic eyes, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.
“Are you going to take your shirt off now?” I ask, blowing more smoke in his face. This time he doesn’t try to get the smoke out of this face. Instead, he nods his head in response. “I knew you’d be a fast learner.”
Hash lets go, giving him a hard shove. Zach falls to his knees, unable to catch his balance. His palms hit the carpet as he starts to push up off the floor.
I quickly place my foot on his shoulder. “Stay down.”
Zach freezes, clearly torn between fighting back or giving in. His shoulders slump and he yanks the shirt off each arm. Pushing my boot into his shoulder, I kick him to the floor.
“Please don’t shoot me,” Zach sobs into the carpet.
“I told you earlier that I’m not goin’ to shoot you.” I pause, acting like I’m thinking it over as I press my boot into his face. “At least not yet. Hash, get his arms. Cyrus, get his legs.”
By the time Hash and Cyrus have him locked down, he’s whimpering and shaking uncontrollably. “What are you doing?” He chokes out.
My cigar is still burning hot as I’m only about halfway through as I crouch down next to him, ignoring the question.
He knows what’s coming.
I push the foot of my cigar into the base of his spine, holding it against his skin until I smell burning flesh. This time, Zach’s screaming is music to my ears as he cries out, bucking his back, trying every which way to worm out of the hold and get free.
Cyrus has his legs in a one arm bear hold and he holds out a lighter for me to stick the cigar into.
Letting it get nice and hot before I take it away, I press the foot into his skin right above the last one.
Repeating the process over and over until I reach the base of his neck, the same exact spot he stopped on Sutton.
The smell of burning flesh, vomit, sweat, and cigar smoke fill the air. Halfway through his back Zach threw up all over himself, eventually face planting in it exhausted. His eyes are bloodshot and swollen from crying and the pain.
“That’s for every single burn you put on my girl’s body,” I growl as I spit on his face.
“I’m sorry,” he says weakly.
“You’re only sorry because you got caught. Pathetic.” I sneer.
“We’re even. I learned my lesson. Just please… I can’t take anymore.”
“Oh, we aren’t done.” I laugh. It sounds wicked even to my ears.
I signal for Cyrus and Hash to release their hold as my hand wraps around the base of Zach’s neck in a tight grip. Yanking him to his feet, I slam him up against the wall. My hand slides around to the front and I squeeze as I lift him off the ground until his feet are dangling inches above it.
Zach starts choking as he tries to gasp for air. On instinct, his hands shoot to mine as he weakly tries to pull me off. “Did it feel good leavin’ the bruises on her fuckin’ neck?” He looks at me with his eyes bulging out of his head. His face is beet red. “Answer me!” I roar.
He nods his head the best he can, which isn’t very much. Blood from the cut on his stomach is dripping all over the carpet and my boots, having opened more from being rubbed up against when he was on the floor.
“Unlike Sutton, during all those days that you hurt her, you aren’t going to make it out of this one,” I tell him, voice dead.
My fist slams into his face over and over, each hit harder than the last. His nose cracks, sending blood spraying across the walls and coating my knuckles. My grip in his throat tightens hard the more he struggles until the life drains out of him, slumping against my hold.
I still don’t stop.
With each punch, I see Sutton curled up in the fetal position in my shower, scared for her life because of this piece of shit.
“He’s done, brother,” Hash calls, trying to get me to snap out of it. He grabs my elbow on a drawback, stopping me from punching him again. “He’s done. ”
I nod my head. “I know.” I exhale sharply. “I know.”
“Text Prez that we need clean up,” Cyrus says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “I know you’re still raging, so that’s the only reason I’m not gonna bring this up right now, but just know, I’m pissed as hell you didn’t let me get one punch in.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up.” Hash rolls his eyes. “When it’s your turn, you’ll get your punch in. Until then, you’ll have a back.”
“Having a back doesn’t mean holding legs down like a little bitch boy.” Cyrus pouts back. “Wait, what do you mean by my turn?”
“You probably won’t get one. No one wants to put up with your crazy ass,” Hash says, and he drags Zach’s lifeless body so he’s lying flat on the floor. “Head on back, brother. We got this.”
“I’m not leavin’ you guys.” My mind drifts to Sutton, wondering what she’s doing and knowing that she’s probably freaking out.
“Scotch is on his way. Go be with your woman.” Hash waves me off.
Not feeling like arguing about it, I thank him and head back to my woman with a smile on my face, knowing she’s going to have her first sleep out of her nightmare and into the fairytale she’s always dreamed about.