Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
V elina…
The knocking came again, more insistent this time, and I looked back over my shoulder as I reached the door. Saint gave me a single nod before melting back into the shadows of the hallway, and heart pounding in my chest, I opened the door.
Basilisk stared at me with his stony, ever-present non-expression and demanded, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Taking care of Singer since you worked her over,” I said flatly. “She doesn’t want to see you.” I tried to slam the door, but he stuck his steel-toe boot in it and shoved it open and me off it with one great shove.
I mean, dude was strong like an ox, stubborn like a bull. I let him cross the threshold and slammed the door behind him.
“I said she doesn’t want to see you!” I shouted. “Now, get out!”
“Fuck you, bitch!” he growled and grabbed me by the chin, throwing me down on the floor in front of the couch.
I laughed at him. I wanted him to turn his back to the hallway, and it worked like a charm. He rounded on me, and there was nothing stony about his look now. He looked positively crazed , like he was definitely on something.
“What you laughing at, huh?” he demanded, looming over me menacingly. I couldn’t help it. I just laughed harder as Saint appeared behind him in the mouth of the hallway. By the time he whipped out his wrist and the collapsible baton made its rasping and click as it telescoped out and locked into place – it was too late for Basilisk.
He turned just in time to take Saint’s first swing right in the cheekbone.
He went down like a ton of bricks and Saint just kept right on swinging. I scrambled past them both and into the hall, where I caught Temperance, who had escaped from Chainsaw. I hollered at Chainsaw to go, to make sure Saint was going to be okay, and hugged Temperance tight while the boys dealt with Basilisk.
She cried and whimpered with every meaty thwack and blow that landed, and I forced her to look at me. I said savagely, “I told you. He would never fucking hurt you again.”
She stared at me, eye wide with shock, and swallowed whatever she’d been about to say or scream next and just crumpled into my arms and wept, her whole body sagging with relief.
By the time my boys were done beating him to death, we were firmly in my wheelhouse.
It was time to clean a crime scene.