43. Kovu
There’s something about hunting for my prey that never gets old.
Even after all these years, the hunt is one of my favorite parts. Right after the bit where I make my victim bleed, of course.
Wyatt finally found Eric on a security camera just outside the city, and I wasted no time heading over to pick him up. Kaos’s blacked-out SUV idles on the curb as I watch him walk down the shady street. We’re outside the city, so this area is technically unclaimed territory, but a couple of the families do business out here.
The street is lined with decrepit, run-down houses, all of which he ignores as he looks over his shoulder. I wonder if he knows I’m hunting him. He had to have known by taunting me he was going to find himself on the receiving end of the monster even the bravest of men fear.
Everyone knows my reputation, my penance for tearing people limb from limb and leaving them for anyone working with them to find. It’s like a game of cat and mouse for me, if the cat were a raging psycho, that is.
I made peace with who I am a long time ago, and I stopped trying to change myself. I’m happy in my scarred skin, and now that I have my little lamb, I have everything I never knew I needed.
Eric crosses the street, and I watch as he turns up the next street.
He knows I’m here.
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips, and I throw open my door.
Time to hunt.
The dark night sky allows me to stay in the shadows as I follow after him, keeping out of sight as he looks around for the predator he can sense but can’t see.
It’s a few minutes later that he shakes his head and murmurs something to himself. He thinks he’s imagining things, which means it’s finally time to strike.
I take an alley to my left and jog around the block, keeping my footsteps light even though there’s no one around. I have no idea what the hell he’s doing in this suburb at this time of night, but I have a feeling I probably don’t want to know either. There are some unsanctioned brothels around here that we occasionally check in on to ensure there’s no trafficked girls, but aside from that, it’s a whole lot of drug dens.
Once he’s back in my sight, I slow down, preparing the sedative as I walk toward him. His eyes are downcast on his phone, giving me the perfect element of surprise, and it’s not until I’m right in front of him that he finally looks up, his eyes wide with terror.
“Hi Eric.” I smile as I stab the needle into his throat, and when his knees hit the cold concrete as he loses consciousness, my smile only grows.
Now it’s time for the fun part.
By the time I make it back to the compound, Kaos is waiting for me in what the two of us have coined as the torture room, not that Crew or Bishop will get on board with the name.
They call it the interrogation room. Losers.
No one who steps foot in here is allowed back out into the world. They die here, usually with one of the two of us being the last thing they see before the devil drags them down to hell, where they belong.
I drop Eric from my shoulder and smirk when he groans at the impact of the cold ground.
Kaos helps me lift him and secures his wrists to the chains hanging from the ceiling, leaving him dangling with only the tips of his toes touching the ground.
It’s then that Crew pushes the door open, and Camilla trails in after him, her eyes darting around the space, but none of the horror I expect appears in her pretty gray eyes.
“This is heaps bigger than the one dad had,” she muses as she moves toward the table of toys Kaos and I like playing with.
When she picks up a blow torch from the table, I swear I almost come from the sight alone. She turns to me with a knowing smile before she drops it back in its spot. “Why haven’t you brought me down here before?”
“We haven’t had many people down here since you arrived, Little Lamb,” I tell her truthfully. It actually hadn’t crossed my mind to bring her down here, but now that I know she’s as perfectly bloodthirsty as I am, that’s going to have to change. “How’d things go with your uncle and cousin?”
She smirks, but it’s Crew that responds, a proud smile tipping up the corners of his lips. “Scott’s in the hospital.”
My eyes flicker to Camilla, and she shrugs. “He shouldn’t have put hands on me, and I wouldn’t have tried to cut one of them off.”
Kaos barks out a laugh and I follow close behind him.
This fucking woman is everything.
“I got quite the shock when I met her in the garage and she got out of the car still covered in his blood.”
“Why do I always miss out on all the fun?” I pout.
Camilla shakes her head, but there’s a knowing smile that tells me I’ll have my time.
We’re cut off by another groan from our prisoner, and I tear my eyes from my girl to turn my attention to the task at hand.
Crew steps forward, while my little lamb leans against the wall beside the door, her arms crossed over her chest and pushing her perfect tits up. I’m a little annoyed that she’s not wearing one of my shirts, but I’ll be sure to remedy that once we’re done in here.
Instead, she’s dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a cropped sweatshirt that allows me the tiniest peek at the soft flesh of her stomach. Okay, maybe the outfit isn’t so bad.
“Eric,” Crew barks, and the man blinks his eyes open at the sound of his old friend’s voice. It takes him a few moments to take in the room he’s found himself hanging in and tests the chains around his wrists before finally focusing on Crew again.
“What are you doing?” he asks, fear creeping into his gaze. “We’re friends, Crew. Why the fuck would you do this to me?”
“I think the better question is, why the fuck would you try to sabotage one of our businesses, friend?” He snarls the final word, and I look over at the man who is usually so cool, calm, and collected. It’s been a while since he’s let this side of himself out, and I’m curious to see how my little lamb reacts to it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eric lies, and I shake my head, moving toward the table of knives to pick which I want to begin with. I need to start with making him bleed, but then I’m thinking shattering some bones might be fun.
“I think he’s forgotten who he’s dealing with,” I muse, returning with a small knife and handing it to Crew. For once, he’s not dressed in a suit, and perhaps the black cargo pants and fitted Henley should have been my first indication that he wants to get his hands dirty as badly as we do.
He takes the knife before stepping forward, his mismatched eyes moving over our victim. “See, I find that hard to believe.” The knife glides through the plain black shirt Eric’s wearing, and as soon as his pale flesh is visible, Crew slices a perfect line down the center of his chest, tearing a scream from his throat. “Do you want to try again?” He raises a brow, the knife poised against Eric’s chest.
“If you’re talking about the fight club being raided, I had nothing to do with that! I was there to watch some of the new fighters before next weekend. You know me. I wouldn’t betray you.” His pathetic begging is already getting on my nerves, but it’s too early to cut out his tongue, no matter how much I would love to do exactly that.
“And the debt you keep worming your way out of?” Crew asks. “The fact you live completely off the grid and yet have a gambling addiction that should have got you killed by now. Any of this ringing a bell?”
“I paid the sharks back! I always do!”
“With what money?” I ask. “Because as far as we can tell, you don’t have a job. You don’t work for us or any of the five families. So where the fuck would you have gotten a million dollars to pay off your latest debt?”
Whatever blood that was left in his cheeks drains away, and he knows he’s in trouble. As if that wasn’t already abundantly clear from the fact he’s tied up in a concrete room surrounded by some of the most deadly men to ever call the city home.
“I was doing some odd jobs for some out-of-town people. Nothing big, but it paid well.”
“Lie!” Crew barks as he slices into his chest again.
I glance over my shoulder at Camilla, who’s transfixed on every move Crew makes as if she’s seeing him for the first time, and hell, she is seeing this version of him, and she’s not scared. If anything, I think she’s a little turned on.
A smirk pulls at my lips. I hope she is, because I’m never hornier than I am after a fresh kill.