Chapter Sixteen
P owerhouse
Once Raven’s fallen asleep and I know she’s safe and sound under my comforter in my room, I decide it’s time.
It’s been hard to wait and attempt to be patient, but I had to make absolute certain she wouldn’t find out about what I’m going to do tonight.
The fight was one thing, but add torture into the mix, and she may not find me so redeemable, no matter how badly I want to be, for her.
She may believe she’s moved on and forgiven her old dance partner, but I can see the pain in her eyes.
I can feel the fear in her heart. She’s not at peace, not while he still haunts her, whether she wants to admit it or not.
It’s okay, she doesn’t have to, because I’ll take care of it for her.
I never want to see her the way she was on my bike that day as we passed the dance studio, so broken and pale.
It terrified me, and I can only imagine how she was feeling inside.
Broken and hopeless , if I had to speculate.
Angel leads the way through the basement until he’s finally pushing aside the heavy secret door we have underneath the clubhouse.
It looks like another wall, a dead-end at the end of a hallway in our basement, but it’s much more.
Once we’ve made it inside the false door, we close it behind us and stop at another.
This one is much stronger, made from iron.
He keys the club code we all have into the keypad, and the lock clicks, allowing us to enter.
We step inside, the soundproof insulation worked so well moments before that I could hear nothing outside, but in here?
The dancer’s screams easily find my ears.
Angel casts a glance back at me, brow raised.
He’s silently saying, see, told you he’s a scared little shit .
Not that I doubted him, he’d have to be a cocky SOB thinking he’s untouchable after getting away with hurting Raven.
This is where Ripper had us keep our stash for the longest time.
Drugs, guns, you name it, and it was here.
We had some in a locked room upstairs, but once Blow made his woman an ol’ lady, everything had to change.
We don’t have anything here on the property with us anymore.
Blow’s woman, Sydney, is too deep in with the cops, so just in case shit hits the fan, we’ve moved everything to a new location.
It’s opened up some space, so the room upstairs now belongs to Richardson.
This one is for whatever we need it to be, and right now it’s a holding cell.
“Please!” The man in the dark gasps, already begging. Angel didn’t even leave a light on down here, so the guy probably thought he was going to rot all alone in darkness forever. He’d be right, but he’s not going to be buried here. I’ll toss him somewhere else for that.
“Begging is useless,” I mutter in more of a growl.
Angel flicks on the light, and when the little man sees me for the first time, taking in my size and fury, he gasps in fear.
“Good, you’re scared. As you should be.” I comment, turning off the flashlight on my phone before tucking it away in the inside pocket of my cut. “You fucked with the wrong person this time, twinkle toes.”
“I don’t even know you guys,” Twinkle Toes says, his worried stare pinging between me and my brother.
“I heard a really fucked up story, you see. One where you had a chance to dance with the best, a woman so good she was cast for multiple roles. Instead of treating it like a gift, you stole her fucking career.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.
” He’s shaking his head, already trembling, and I haven’t even touched him yet.
I can understand why, I tower over him by a good foot and am more foreboding with him sitting down before me.
Right now, I probably look like I’m the biggest motherfucker he’s ever seen before.
“Oh no? You sure about that because if you’re not talking , you have no use to me.
” I nod to Angel, “Or him. If you have no use to either of us, then there is no reason for you to keep breathing.” I step closer, unsnapping the large hunting knife I always have looped on my belt for situations like this one.
“Oh my God!” His eyes grow wide, panic flickering over his features as he takes in the long blade I’ve drawn free. I have no qualms using it on him either. In fact, I plan on it. He deserves to feel pain before I eventually take his life. “No, no, no! I promise I have a use.”
I pull the metal folding chair from off to the side, opening it and setting it directly in front of him.
I spin the chair around, straddling it so the back is to my front, offering my bulky frame a bit of support as I lean forward.
“You gonna tell me about what happened, or am I going to bleed you out and bury you?” I probably won’t even go to that much trouble, I’m sure there’s a ravine not too far from here I can toss his frail ass into and be done with him.
His mouth opens and closes, reminding me of a fish. His brow beads with sweat, his hair oily and matted, tear streaks staining his cheeks while he attempts to come up with something to say, to keep himself alive. He doesn’t realize he’s only buying himself time to speak, not to live. “I-”
I interrupt him, one hand resting on the back of the chair, the other on my knee, holding the intimidating knife, ready to make this weasel scream. “The truth . Anything else is worthless to me. Now, tell me why you hurt my woman.”
“Who’s your woman?” He whispers, buying time.
He’s treating me like I’m stupid. He knows damn well who I mean, from when I previously told him he could’ve partnered with the best dancer out there.
Deep down, he’s more than aware it’s Raven, and it infuriates me how he thinks he can sit here and play me for a fool.
I nod. “Okay.” Standing again, I pull his foot forward and begin removing his shoe. His fancy dress sock is next, and once it’s removed as well, I’m met with some ugly ass feet. His toes are smooshed and crooked, looking like someone got to them before we did.
“Damn,” Angel murmurs behind me once he catches sight of the fucked up toes from looking over my shoulder. He’s thinking the same thing I am, that Twinkles Toes has pissed too many people off.
“It’s a small price to pay when you’re an artist. I bewitch people with my dance,” my prisoner states haughtily. Raven’s feet aren’t pretty, but they damn sure don’t look like this. The guy must be torturing himself dancing on them like this, which he deserves, if so.
“You don’t do shit. You hurt innocent women.
Big mistake on your part,” I comment, nodding so Angel holds the foot in place for my next plan.
Not that twinkle toes can move much, he’s literally tied to a chair, but I don’t want him to shift his foot, and I end up chipping the tip of my blade.
It’d only piss me off more than I already am, and I don’t think rage stabbing him to death is the way to go with this one.
I grab the first mangled toe, forcing myself not to cringe.
I’m not scared of shit, but fucked up feet do give me the creeps.
“This little piggy went to the market,” I sing and chuckle, then cut it off.
Blood pours out and twinkle toes damn near screams the place down.
“Geez. Shut up, guy, you’ll give us a headache with your hollering.
Don’t open your trap unless you plan on telling me what I want to know. ”
He’s sobbing uncontrollably at this point, shaking like a weak little dick. “Y-you’ve ruined my career! Ruined it! I need my toes.”
Shaking my head, I can’t find it in me to feel an ounce of empathy for this motherfucker. He’s ruined Raven’s chances and dreams, and she had much worse done to her at his hands than I’ve done so far. “I’m just getting started. Feel like talking yet?”
“F-fuck y-you!” He continues to stammer, with spit gathering around his mouth like a classless fuck.
He glares at me, and it takes everything inside not to laugh in his face at his mini temper tantrum.
He thinks being angry and hurling insults at us will benefit him in any way? He’s dumber than I thought.
With a nod, I continue, “This little piggy stayed home.” I skip the next toe.
He sighs in relief, but it’s short-lived.
“This little piggy had ballet,” I chop through it suddenly, my move being met with a bloodcurdling scream. He has no idea this is my warm-up, a taste at what I will do to his body should I need answers and he not willingly offer them up.
“Please,” He begins to beg, but I ignore the word.
“This little piggy had none.” I skip the next toe, glancing up, taking in his face with a sinister smile, knowing what comes next.
I pause long enough for him to offer anything, but his lips are screwed up tightly, tears still trailing down his cheeks.
Since he refuses to talk, I nod again, giving Angel a heads up that I’m continuing.
“And this little piggy, went,” I begin stabbing his foot and the last toe in the same succession as my words, “Wee, wee, wee, all the way home!” When I finish, he has two remaining toes left on his mangled first foot.
The outer edge looks like it’s gone through a meat slicer, all chopped up from the deadly tip of my knife.
“Okay,” he gasps, gagging. His face is an unnatural shade of pale, taking on a greenish hue. I don’t think he’s going to make it through the next foot, and so help me, if he pukes on me, we’re going to have another problem entirely. I’ll have to cut his tongue out for it. “I-I’ll t-t-talk.”
Taking my seat again, Angel steps off to the side, and we wait.
I need to find out who he was working with, if anyone, so I can punish them too.
A moment of calm overtakes me as I deeply inhale and then exhale, practicing the breathing technique my woman often does, hoping it’ll ground me.
I have to keep my head straight so I get everything out of him I need to.
With a sigh, I ask, “Why did you hurt Raven?”
“It wasn’t my idea,” he pauses for a few seconds. “At first,” he eventually admits.
I gesture for him to keep going.
“The company who was scouting me didn’t like that she was getting more attention than their prima ballerina.
They had her under contract and couldn’t afford to bring someone on like me and Raven at the same time, on top of paying their other contracts.
” He shuts up again, so I point my knife at his opposite foot.
“That one’s next, if you don’t keep going,” I threaten.
His lips tremble as he admits, “I knew they needed a male dancer more than a female performer at the moment. Theirs was talented, but not at the level Raven was, but they’d already signed the other woman, so they couldn’t afford two female prima ballerinas, not to mention it would look poor on their part to announce one as their lead then immediately replace her with another.
The company is held to such high esteem, it would’ve appeared as if they’ve lost their touch in finding the best talent out there.
Knowing all of this, I offered to make sure Raven didn’t dance in the next show we were practicing together for, and they gave me my contract. ”
Angel lowly whistles behind me.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
He shakes his head, “I-I swear it. Jaque de Lafiore was in the meeting representing them. Her partner, Claude Chizisky was the one who came in later and told me at the end of my audition that they wouldn’t be able to sign my contract until some of their direct competition went away.
I immediately knew they meant Raven. She was making headlines everywhere for being the best up-and-coming ballerina.
Anyone worth a damn in ballet was well aware she would eventually become the best.”
“So you made it happen. Took their problem away for money.”
“I-I offered to help the issue go away for the next show I was in, but I had no control over any others when she recovered. And, no, it wasn’t for the money. It was to live my dream of being a resident at a premier company I’d always dreamed of dancing for. It was so much more than money.”
“You willingly hurt my woman so you could dance for shitty people. You stole her dream away, her livelihood, to help fund yours.”
“It’s not that simple,” he attempts to argue, but I’m not hearing anything else he has to say and tune him out.
I thought breaking his toes, feet, and legs would be enough, but this goes so much deeper.
He didn’t hurt her just because he’s another random shit bag out there.
He willingly ended her career to advance his and never looked back; he never tried to help her once he got the spot he’d dreamed of.
After speaking to him, it’s beyond obvious that he knew Raven’s dreams, her future, and didn’t bat an eye when he decided to steal it all away and leave her behind like she wasn’t a second thought.
The impact of his deceit is deeper than I’d realized at first.
He needs to die.
They all do.
“Angel.” I remain staring at twinkle toes, the realization of everything hitting me with so much force I can’t move for a beat.
“Brother.”
“Prez said whatever I needed,” I state, but he already knows. “I want them dead.”
“I’ll handle it.” Is his response, and then he’s leaving me alone.
I get to my feet, sheathing my knife. There’s so much relief on the man before me’s face, it’s comical.
I kick the back of his calf hard enough that his leg straightens, and he leaves it there, not knowing what’s coming next.
With an exhale, I slam my foot down on top of it, right in the middle.
I use so much weight and strength in the impact, his bone snaps in half.
He screams, his body thrashing in pain. He jolts his chair as much as possible, but he’s going nowhere.
I wasn’t kidding when I told him I was just getting started.
He was too stupid to realize that no matter what he told me, it would always end in his death.
His words only added to how gruesome and painful his end would be.
He’s clearly never been in love before, and has never had the powerful feeling of devotion and protectiveness rushing through his veins for the person he cares most for, to the point he’d do anything for their happiness and wellbeing.
I continue. Snapping bone after bone, thigh, knee, ankle, foot, only to move to the other side, and repeat. He passes out, and then as soon as he wakes again, I break more bones.
Eventually, I stab him through his heart because he doesn’t deserve to have one in the afterlife, wherever that may be. He deserves to suffer without love for hurting the woman who owns my loyalty and obsession.
She’s everything to me, and he’ll never touch her again.