Chapter 3
Thea
Ihad run out to the car and changed into sweats and a t-shirt while Rick was coming to, because no one wanted to interrogate and torture someone in a night-out outfit. That shit just wasn’t comfortable.
I don’t care what Hollywood tries to tell you—miniskirts, corset tops, and heels are not action sequence clothing.
It’s fucking ridiculous. I wanted to torture the guy, not have my boobs pop out when I bent over, for fuck’s sake.
And although there was the occasional woman who could do amazing fucking things in heels—bless their superhero souls—I was not one of them.
That shit took years of training and wearing heels all the time, and that was just not me.
I was a sneakers or slippers kind of girl.
Maybe some kick ass boots. Without heels. Or some nice chonky heels.
Yes, I said chonky, and I wasn’t taking it back. I liked chonky, and anyone who didn’t could go fuck themselves.
Speaking of judgy assholes, Rick the Dick was groaning and his eyelids were fluttering open. I was in some nice comfy torture clothes, and I was sitting on a chair in front of Rick. The guys had ever so helpfully dragged it over so I could sit down.
You know, so I wouldn’t get tired while I waited for him to gain awareness. Like I was some delicate little flower. Meanwhile they were both leaning against the wall by the door like they were holding the cabin up with their very manly muscles.
That was fine. They were being sweet in an awkward way. But they were generally awkward, so I didn’t take it personally.
“...the fuck?” Rick slurred out, his head lolling a bit.
“Hey, Ricky boy. You back with us in the land of the living? At least for now?” I asked.
His head sort of rolled around a bit more, so I put my hand up and snapped my fingers in front of his face a few times. That got him to focus on me.
“I didn’t even drug you that much. You really are a lightweight,” I scoffed.
My disdain seemed to break through to him, because he finally focused on me.
He still looked a little confused, and he must have tried to move his arms, because he grimaced when he realized they were tied behind his back, then he tried shifting his legs.
He struggled for a bit, obviously taking a moment to realize he was tied to a chair.
“Not very bright, is he?” Jude asked.
“I don’t know. Josh must have seen something in him,” Dexter replied, ever loyal.
Rick stilled at that, looking around and finally taking in his surroundings. His gaze settled on me, and it was like I could see the cogs turning in his little brain.
“You’re the girl from the club. You bumped into me.”
“Ding, ding, ding. Give the man a gold star,” I said sarcastically. I reached forward and squeezed his cheeks between my fingers, making his mouth all smushy. “Look, that pretty face is good for something after all.”
He jerked away, then he spit at me. I could hear Jude and Dexter moving behind me, but I just put a hand up, even though Rick’s attention immediately went to them.
I grabbed his face again. “You don’t need to look at them. They’re not the ones you need to worry about, sweetie. I’m the one you need to worry about.”
With that, I let his face go. He stared at me, and I could see hatred in his eyes. He tried to cover it up, but I knew it was there. That deep disdain and hatred for anyone he thought was less than him. That was the thing with people like him—he thought everyone was less than him.
It was like a movie in my head as I focused in on him—I could see flashes of all the shitty things he’d done.
All the relationships he’d been in. All the times he’d hurt people.
He thought so highly of himself, that he was better than everyone else.
He thought he was a god among men. He made his lovers think that about him, too.
He played them, made them love him, made them think they were special and wonderful and unique, and then he slowly tore them down and found little ways to hurt them so he could feel bigger than them.
He put himself on a pedestal, and he kept them cowering at his feet.
He hurt them because he could. Because it made him feel better about himself.
It was time to pay those hurts back. It was time to pay him back for Josh, and for all the other people he hurt.
I saw the moment in the apartment between him and Josh so clearly in my head.
Josh pressed against the cabinets, bruises forming on his back, Rick’s hands and words bruising the sweet man.
I reached behind him and grabbed onto Rick’s wrist, squeezing it in my hand until I could feel bones grinding.
“What the fuck, bitch,” he muttered.
He didn’t get anything else out before I let go and then slapped him across the face, hard, and I was happy to see his head whip to the side.
“An eye for an eye, Ricky boy. Very old school, isn’t it? A kind of ancient magic in it, I think. Time to pay your dues. Not just for Josh, either.”
I grabbed his hair and pulled his head back hard, forcing tears to come to his eyes.
Then I leaned down and bit his lip until I tasted blood, ignoring his screaming and thrashing, biting down with all my strength and feeling the flesh give way beneath my teeth.
I pulled off and spit blood out, and I heard one of the guys mutter, “Ewww,” behind me.
I silently agreed, a little grossed out I had to taste this asshole’s blood.
The things I’d do for revenge.
I ignored the gross factor, though, and scratched my nails down his neck, being sure to cut in and draw more blood.
“Come on, baby, doesn’t that feel good?” I asked, knowing that he’d done all these things to others. Sometimes he pretended it was for pleasure, but sometimes he didn’t bother.
I let the hand holding his hair go, and I reached out with both hands, grabbing onto his nipples, pulling and twisting as he cried out in agony.
“What’s wrong, Ricky boy, can’t you take what you dish out?” I briefly let go and then gripped on even harder, really pulling. “You tell them they’ll like it. You tell them they should feel good even when you know you’re hurting them.”
I let his nipples go, then I reached out and slapped him a few times, hard enough to make him dazed. He was whimpering, his head rolling around, his lip and neck bleeding.
I grabbed a knife from the table, and then cut the ties attaching his legs to the chair.
I dragged him up, pulling him toward the area of the cabin that had a counter and cabinets.
I made sure to push him forcefully into the counter, using my hands to smash his head into the cabinets.
After all, he was never gentle with Josh. Or with anyone.
I grabbed him by the throat and squeezed, pressing him against the cabinets. He was taller than me, but that was okay. I didn’t need to make eye contact. I leaned in and whispered up to him as he gasped for breath.
“You tell yourself they like to be choked. They like to be slapped. They like it rough. But they never like it that rough. You take whatever boundaries someone has and you push, and push, and push some more. You talk at them, whisper like a devil in their ear, and make them doubt themselves. You make them think you know what’s best, that you care about them.
But you don’t care about them, Ricky. You don’t care about anyone at all, do you? ”
He made a garbled sound, and I let him go. He fell to the floor in a heap, his legs collapsing beneath him. Bruises were already forming on his face from the slaps, and I knew his chest, throat, and back would be bruised as well. Still, it was barely a fraction of what he’d done.
I leaned down and lifted his face to look at me.
“Do you remember Jake? Do you, Rick? Hmmm? He liked a little CBT, didn’t he? But you always have to take things too far, don’t you?”
He started crying then, tears and snot running down his face.
He tried to look at the guys at the back of the room, but I just pulled him up, dragging him back into the center of the room as he pleaded with me.
The “please, please, please,” didn’t bother me, but when he said, “he liked it,” I might have lost my temper a bit.
I’d seen what Jake had liked. I’d also seen how Rick had, as always, pushed at those boundaries, taken things too far, and shattered Jake’s pleasure.
Rick took someone’s trust and broke it. I hated the fact that he turned people’s kinks against them. It made me really fucking mad.
I stood Rick up, holding onto his shoulders.
He was still sobbing, trying to hunch in on himself and pulling his shoulders like he could get his arms around to protect himself.
I took all the force I could and jerked my knee up while simultaneously jerking his shoulders down, kneeing him as hard as I possibly could in the nuts.
It felt kinda squishy and gross, to be honest. I wondered if I broke something. Could you break a dick or balls? Was that a thing? Rupture, maybe?
Rick fell to the ground, retching and throwing up onto the floor, gasping for air and whimpering.
The sounds were pretty pathetic, but I didn’t feel bad.
After all, somehow I knew that Jake had needed an ER visit after their time together.
I’m not even sure he had told Rick that.
The man had very wisely never spoken to Rick again after their last time together.
I pulled myself out of his slimy, awful memories, and I turned around, not worried about Rick doing anything like running away. He would be out of commission for a bit.
Jude and Dexter were both gaping at me.
“What?” I asked.
They looked like they both wanted to cover their junk. Men. So sensitive about their manly bits. I sighed and stared at them, waiting for them to get over themselves.
“I am not examining the damage to tell Toby about it for his next novel,” Dexter finally said.
I snorted, rolling my eyes.
“You know, if I wasn’t already sworn to my Walrus, and if you and I weren’t practically siblings, I’d probably be in love with you,” Jude said.
“Ewww,” I said, scrunching up my nose.
Dexter laughed, then Jude joined in, and pretty soon we were all chuckling.
It was kind of a cool family moment, even if there was a retching, groaning guy on the floor behind us.
I mean, hey, maybe that’s what family was about—finding the humor even when dealing with life’s unpleasant and gross moments.
We eventually all turned and looked back at Rick, who was rocking back and forth on the floor, groaning and sobbing.
I sighed. As much as I’d like to be done with him, I was a little worried about the cutie he’d been with at the bar.
Probably should’ve thought about that and asked some questions before I incapacitated him. Oops.
“Let’s get him back in the chair. I don’t think his creepy friend has good intentions toward the cutie he was with,” I told the guys.
They grunted in agreement, moving to manhandle Rick back into the chair. I supposed we’d have to wait a bit for him to calm down enough to talk.
I guess there were always snacks in the meantime.
What?
If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Plus, I was hungry. Revenge was hard work. I was sure they had an unopened package of something that would be safe to eat.
I wondered if there was any chocolate?