40. Devil
Chapter 40
Devil
“Killing me isn’t going to bring your eye back.”
Wolf’s words are labored, slurred, and broken as he pants for air. I have to wonder if one of his broken ribs might have messed with his lung. Probably not, since he’s still breathing. Sometimes, I think I keep waiting for him to die from my beatings to take the decision out of my hands of when I should end him.
I glance up at the clock and it’s one in the morning. Another night where I’m late getting in bed with Torrent. That will probably lead to another fight. She knows what I’m doing. I haven’t kept that from her. She told me she understands and I think she does. I can see the concern on her face, however, and each day that this drags on, that concern increases.
She’s worried about me.
Hell, I’m worried about myself.
When I first got my hands on Wolf, I thought the darkness inside me had lifted. Now, it’s becoming clearer that every day I spend breathing the same air as Wolf, feeds the darkness. Lately, I’m beginning to worry I’m losing sight of myself again.
“End this,” Wolf says. He’s not really begging, but he says it every night just the same. I never talk to him. He doesn’t deserve my words. Instead, I do what I always do. I take the bat and slam it into the side of his face.
He’s definitely not so pretty to look at now.
Wolf spits blood out of his mouth.
“End this,” he demands again when he can recover enough to talk. I ignore him, just like always. Then, I take my knife and cut another couple of inches of skin off his leg.
It’s a ritual I do every night before I leave and go jump in the shower. His leg looks disgusting now and is definitely infected, but that’s just a small part of his worries. I throw the skin on the concrete floor for the rats to eat, knowing Wolf will be watching it. I want him to see that, to know that soon the rats will be feasting on his entire body.
“End this!” he yells again.
“Maybe tomorrow,” I reply, giving him hope. Hell, maybe I’m giving it to myself. I know that the sooner this is over, the sooner I can get on with my life and enjoy Torrent’s love and that of our son. Logically, I know it, but yet I can’t make myself stop torturing him. I keep thinking I’ll get to a point where I feel that the score is even.
It never is.
What’s that old adage? An eye for an eye? Maybe tomorrow I’ll try cutting out both of Wolf’s eyes with a dull knife. Maybe that will make me feel like the score has been settled. It could happen…
But I doubt it.