6. Ezekiel
6
EZEKIEL
I think I hear her call my name. I think through the deafening pumping of blood in my ears, I hear her say my name. But then he hits her again, this time a blow to her stomach that forces the air from her lungs.
Blue is hanging by her wrists in the middle of the room. She s naked, her body, what I can see of it over the hulking back of Wyatt or Levi or whichever the fuck he is, is covered in welts and bloodied. Her face, too, her pretty face, is smeared with blood. Her head lolls forward, she s passed out when he hits her again. She won t feel that, at least. That s a blessing, right?
Some blessing.
I stalk toward Hoxton as he registers the interruption. And I understand why he didn t turn when the door came crashing in. I see the fury, the utter rage etched into his face, his eyes, his mouth and his fists.
It takes him a moment to make sense of me being there and I take advantage of his confusion. I draw my arm back and rather than punching him, I slam the heel of my hand into his nose, which already looks bloodied.
There s a crunching sound before something clatters to the ground. I register that it s a hunting knife. He stumbles backward, right into Blue. She sways, unconscious and I can t have that. I can t have him touching her.
I pull him away by the shoulders and this time, I punch him and watch his head jerk to the side. Otherwise, his body doesn t move. It s like he barely registers the hit. He shakes his head, looks at me, pin-prick black pupils in colorless eyes, like his brother. They could be twins.
He roars, animated, and like a fucking bull, charges me, head down, the sound he makes inhuman as he takes me down. We knock into Blue s legs, slide on dirt before coming to a stop. He s on top of me and he draws his fist back to punch my face. He manages it, and fuck me, he s like a fucking bear, bigger than his brother even.
My head jerks to the side but before he can get another hit in, I grip his face, digging my fingers into his eye sockets, forcing the heel of my hand into his broken nose until I manage to shove him off me. It gives me just enough room to dodge his next blow and punch him in his limp dick.
He groans, cupping himself and I get to my feet, hauling him upright. He tries to knock me down using his shoulder as a battering ram and we both go crashing into the far wall, knocking his array of whips to the floor, we go down.
I glance at Blue who is opening her eyes. I take in the welts, see the discarded rod he used to hurt her. Mother fucker. I killed your brother. I m going to kill you, too! I shove him backward and stalk toward him, fueled by hate, by blood, by a burning need for vengeance.
You! You killed Levi! he says, looking around him, his eyes landing on the hunting knife on the floor by Blue s feet. I m going to fucking kill you and then I m going to kill your whore.
He dives for the knife, but Blue is alert enough to knock it out of reach. It s just a few paces, her feet don t quite touch down, but it s something.
Our eyes meet for a moment, for the briefest of seconds before Wyatt grabs my ankle and tugs me down. I fall hard and watch as Hoxton s fingers reach for the hunting knife. He keeps his eyes on me and is ready when I draw back and attempt to slam my fist into his face. He moves out of the way in time, so I just manage to brush his jaw. Then he s got the knife, and he grins, wielding it in front of me as he hauls himself to his feet.
I do the same, both of us out of breath.
I gutted your brother like a fucking pig, I tell him.
His grin vanishes, all malice in his eyes as he circles, Blue dangling between us.
I keep my eyes on that knife. I need to get him away from her.
He bled like one too. Ruined my tux, I tell him, moving toward the wall of whips.
He strikes but I jump out of the way, drawing him farther from Blue.
He bled out on a bathroom floor. Screamed like a girl.
He jabs again, but again, I m faster.
You going to scream like a little girl too? I ask and watch his face as he grows angrier and angrier. Did you scream when you got your face carved out, clown?
With a roar, he lunges, and this time, when I jump out of the way, the tip of the blade imbeds itself into the wooden cross. Hoxton tugs to free it but it sticks. He shifts his gaze to it. It s the moment I need, the instant to grip one of the thick stake-like nails hammered into the wall to hold up one of his toys and yank it free. I hear Blue scream when I lunge for him, but I don t look at her. I can t. Instead, I stab the nail right into his eye.
I was right. He screams like a girl.
He screams louder than Blue as I draw it out, the wet squelching sound it makes turning my stomach. I do it again this time burying it in his other eye, my rage blinding me as I physically blind him. I stumble backward, panting for breath. He still doesn t let go of the hunting knife though, even as he screams and pulls the nail out of his eye.
Here, let me help you with that, I say, hearing how eerily calm my voice sounds. How mentally controlled I am even as my heart pounds hard against my chest.
With a grunt, I tug the hunting knife out of the cross and turn to Wyatt. He s got his hands over his eyes now. I should let him suffer. Let him lie here and die slowly. But then I hear her again. I hear her say my name and I bury his own knife in his gut. You ll die like your piece of shit brother, I say and tug upward once, twice.
Hoxton stands still, a choking sound his last breath before his hands close over the hilt of the knife and finally, finally, the goliath topples to the ground.