Chapter 26 #2
Genuine panic is in his voice, and that angers me even more.
Where was all of that for me? Where was all of that when I was in prison, struggling to survive?
Where was any single emotion, worry, concern, or even pity when I was abused by his friends, all because he delivered me on a silver platter to them?
“That’s none of your concern now, is it?”
“Wait, Blair—”
“Do not say my name,” I cut him off, my voice loud. “You do not have the privilege of addressing me at all. I’ll do all the talking. I’ll start with you, Alexander. Then, I’ll go after your wife, then after your son.”
His eyes widen, face paling. “You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
“That wouldn’t make you any better than me.”
“I never claimed to be better than you, anyway. The apple doesn’t fall from the tree, does it? But I would like to think I’m not as evil as you. When I kill your wife, I will do it quickly. She won’t suffer much.”
He swallows, then his mouth opens, but I speak before he gets the chance to.
“I’m giving you one chance to tell me what you intended to do with Daisy.”
“How do you—”
“Answer me!”
He flinches when I yell, and I raise the gun, aiming to hit him between his eyes. He struggles against the chains that are wrapped around his body, but it’s useless. Arlo tied them tightly enough that he barely gets any air in.
“Paul wanted to keep her to himself. He was going to wait until she was a bit older.”
The nauseating feeling resurfaces, and I swallow down bile.
I’m grateful to whatever God may exist that they haven’t touched the child yet, but knowing that they were going to take her, then likely keep her isolated until they can do all of the things they’ve done to me, makes me sick to my stomach.
“Why this girl specifically?”
“Her parents died in a car crash. They had something on Paul, and that would’ve been his last revenge on them, ruining their precious daughter.”
“Good thing I won’t let any of you touch her.”
He laughs. “How will you stop it, though? You couldn’t even stop him from doing it to you.”
My body’s quicker than my mind. My hand rises, and I backhand him with all my might. His head snaps to the side; the sound of my hand connecting to his cheek echoes in the room. My breathing is heavy, eyes filled with rage.
“You know, I’m no expert in torture.”
“I wouldn’t think you’d be.”
“But my friend is,” I pause, looking at the glass. “Come in, Kaya.”
She’s inside before I can speak. A wide, wicked grin is spread on her face as she steps forward. She pulls out knives from the inside of her jacket, picking through the small collection thoughtfully.
“Just leave him alive for me to kill.”
“Oh, absolutely.”
I step back, and Kaya gets to work.
She starts by slicing up his cheeks. The blade penetrates deep enough to cause bleeding, splitting his flesh apart. The screams of pure agony follow suit, and I close my eyes, basking in the sound.
Goosebumps prickle all over my skin, and some of the blood splashes my hands. I open my eyes, and I’m shocked by the sight in front of me. Alexander’s looking directly at me, with so much fear, agony, and suffering in those fucking eyes.
And Kaya?
Oh, she’s on a roll.
I’ll never understand how she did it so quickly, but there are pieces of his flesh on the floor.
She cut him open, and I can quite literally see the bones of his hands.
Blood is smeared all over her face, hair, and clothes.
It’s bone-chilling, and if this were someone else, I’d probably be in the corner, throwing up.
“Wait, please,” his desperate pleas are met with a groan from Kaya.
She forces her hand into his mouth, making him gag. She yanks his tongue out, then, in a blink of an eye, she cuts it off. I’ve never seen this amount of blood anywhere else, and I’ve killed my mother and stepfather in cold blood.
Kaya dangles the cut-off tongue in front of him, laughing, mocking him.
“There, that ought to keep you silent.’’
I stay a few steps behind her, just observing her. She continues to cut, stab, and completely ruin his body. I wouldn’t be able to count the number of wounds on him even if I tried to, and for a moment, I panic, thinking she’ll kill him.
Instead, Kaya steps back, admiring her handiwork.
“There,” she turns to look at me, face filled with blood, hair sticking together. “All yours. Hurry before he dies from blood loss or pain.”
She hands me a bloody knife, which I take, deciding it’s better to use than the gun in my hand. My feet drag me toward Alexander, the crimson liquid warm on my skin. I take a deep breath, looking at the pathetic state he’s found himself in.
“Wait for me on the other side, Alexander,” I lean down, whispering in his ear. “We’ll meet again in Hell, and trust me, I will make it far worse than it was before.”
I pull back, looking at him. His eyes are filled with tears, rolling down his cheeks. If he could beg, he would. However, since he can’t, seeing it all just makes my chest swell with happiness.
Without missing a beat, I plunge the knife into his chest. For a moment, I just stare at him. Getting to watch life drain out of his body has to be one of the most exhilarating feelings I’ve ever felt.
His dead eyes stare back at me, and the fact that I’m the last thing he saw before dying makes me giddy on the inside. I shove the knife deeper into his body, then let go of the handle, leaving it embedded in his chest.
“One down, four to go.”