Chapter 25 Everett
Gasoline, Halsey
Our naked bodies lie intertwined in the sheets. Daybreak comes through the window, bright and aglow from the snow-covered ground. I brought Brielle to orgasm several times and we needed to take a break.
It may be in poor taste that it makes me chuckle that she hasn’t had any remarkable sexual experiences other than with me. Though I relish in the fact I’ve gotten to enjoy some of her first experiences with her.
I brush a piece of her hair from her face as we lie there, limbs tangled, our chests rising and falling at the same pace. Her tender fingertips trace the barbed wire scars etched into my skin—something I never show others, but for some reason I want to show her this portion of me.
I want to show her everything and be vulnerable for the first time in my pathetic life.
She came in and blasted down my walls like fucking TNT.
Her emerald eyes shine as I brush my large hands through her locks. She makes the most adorable sound as her eyes roll back from the pleasure.
“We have to head out soon,” I mention softly.
Her expression changes from a shining smile to something foreboding.
After all, business still remains and we must leave our small moment of bliss to take care of Giorgio’s sins.
“Mrs. Foster has brought you some items to wear to the farm. We will interrogate Giorgio and then you may seek his judgment for what he unleashed upon you,” I state, as I grab my gray trousers and black turtleneck suitable for the grunge of the farm.
Brielle has been there before, but I do not believe she understands the full extent of what lies within the compound. She has only cared for others when called upon and then left .
I’m going to shove her into a scenario she has never been in before.
She needs to lose control.
She needs to embark on her new journey and embrace her dark side.
As I dress in my turtleneck, I turn and find her staring at me. She is dressed in tight black cargo paints and a green turtleneck. Suitable for a tiny assassin.
Adorable.
“Don’t do that,” she states. Her brow furrows.
I pull on my sleeves, ensuring my scars are covered. “What’s that, dove?”
“You’re going into your cold demeanor. Don’t do that, please. Not with me.” She asks so sweetly it causes me to bite my lower lip. I stifle my desire to throw her on the bed and stay inside the whole winter.
Fucking work .
“My darling dove. I have to. I have to be the mean, evil asshole. If I’m not, they will abuse me like Freddy.
They will mock me like Bobby. Kenneth and I have to be the assholes or others will not respect us.
” Her nostrils flare, and I spy frustration on her face.
“I challenge you. For when we walk into those barn doors, I will be pushing you to unwind the comfortable and kind facade of yours. I want you to match my spirit.”
Her beautiful face contorts in confusion. “You want me to be an asshole and match your asshole energy?”
I nod and grab some knives to place within my pockets and then saunter over to her.
Getting to my knees, I look up at her and slowly, intimately place knives in the pockets of her cargo pants. “Yes, I want you to match my asshole energy. In fact, I hope you become fully unleashed.”
The cold winter freezes my goddamn nose hairs, for fuck’s sake.
As we enter the barn, I find several of my men awaiting orders.
Biscuit is beside Giorgio’s limp body, which is tied to a wooden chair. He sits in the same suit from last night .
I turn to see Brielle’s eyes gaze upon Giorgio and then back toward me. She doesn’t show any reservations, any fear. This makes me proud.
Let’s see how far I can push her.
Motioning for Brielle to stand alongside the wall with Bobby and Kenneth, I stalk toward him. Hatred bubbles up within my soul.
“Giorgio. You placed your hands on what is mine . You disrespected my establishment. You dishonor your family name. You must pay for your sins.”
My voice echoes along the barn walls as my men state in unison, “Death before dishonor.”
“Fuck you serpents,” he spits out.
“I will not deliver your judgment, but she will .” I motion for Brielle to come stand next to me. “You said you were going to skin her alive, yeah?”
In my peripheral, I spy Brielle shudder at the words.
“Please, senora, I didn’t realize who you were. Seraphina said you were a new girl and I—”
I throw a right hook to the side of his head to assist him with remaining silent .
“Fucker!” Giorgio snarls out. “All women are toys, what the fuck do you think God put them on this Earth for!?”
Brielle’s eyes widen, then she gasps as I grab her hand and place one of my blades in her palm.
She shakes her head. “I can’t. He was under the influence.”
Kenneth’s voice calls from the side of the barn, “Just gut him, brotha! He doesn’t deserve air.”
This makes me lose my fucking patience.
“Everyone OUT!” I order. I peer up at my brother and then Biscuit. “Go to the other side of the barn. Get the pigs ready,” I snarl through my teeth, my fists clenched.
Men file out swiftly until Brielle and I are left with a giggling Giorgio.
“Oh, your little whore doesn’t want to get her hands di—” He ceases his speaking as I backhand him, and a tooth flies from his shit-eating grin.
Then I turn toward Brielle and march into her space, breathing heavily in order to remain in control.
I hate that she causes my control and judgment to lapse. Fuck .
Bracing my hands on either of her shoulders, I lean my forehead onto hers and state, “Are you going to sit there and make excuses for everyone and everything in your life?” My eyes bore into her.
Then I step back and raise my voice, trying to drive my point to full understanding.
“In YOUR LIFE. Take control, Brielle. This is your chance to unleash.”
I walk behind her, placing my hand over her palm grasping the knife. Her hand is trembling mildly; she’s scared.
Understandable.
Though this will not do.
So I whisper in her ear, “Want to know why he is so notorious? It isn’t for his mafioso family.
No . You want to know what he was going to do with you, dove?
He was gonna do what he does with all girls.
He was gonna force himself on you. This gremlin loves to hear women in agony.
He loves to inflict pain. He thrives on fear .
He is vile. He would have tormented you, then cut off your nipples and done other heinous things. ”
She gasps as her body shudders in fear, but I see her eyes have now narrowed.
“Bring the men back in,” she demands.
I yell for Kenneth as the men march back into the room, file alongside the barn walls and watch as I make my dove into a malicious crow.
“The things he does to women make my men sick. He doesn’t live with a code.
He has no morals or values.” I raise my hand to point at the piece of shit, then return to her.
My chest is against her back. Her breathing is steady.
Lowering my hand back onto hers, I realize her hand isn’t trembling anymore.
I continue to coax the violent fire raging inside her. “Think of every fucking bastard that has put their filthy fucking hands on you. Take it out on him . Make them all pay through his flesh and bones.”
She clears her voice but stands firm. “I was scared,” she states only for me to hear. “But my feelings have changed and the spirit inside me is no longer is anxious. No. It is angry. It wants redemption.”
“Yes, darling, be set free. I’m allowing you to take all your trauma out on him. I’m giving you permission to perform your darkest desires,” I whisper in her hair and tenderly kiss her cheek.
Realizing all my men are watching, I make a mental note to punch any fucker that comments on the kiss .
She slowly turns to face me. “Be an asshole,” she jokingly murmurs.
I nod proudly. God, I want to slash this fucker apart with her, but she needs this. So I stand with my hands clasped as I let my little murderous crow release her vengeance.
“Biscuit?” she asks with confidence. “Fetch me some meat hooks, please?”
He doesn’t even pause.
Biscuit and another Adder run to the other room. They fetch the meat hooks and return, long chains in hand, then begin draping them onto the ceiling of the barn.
They stand awaiting Brielle’s next order with admiration in their eyes.
“You talk too much,” Brielle mentions as she stares at Giorgio with a stone-cold gaze.
He shrugs his shoulders and places a smug look upon his face. “What can I say? Women love my tongue,” he quips as my men growl and murmur at his arrogant remark.
Brielle looks toward Bobby and asks for her nursing bag from my vehicle. When he returns she fishes through it, pulling out what appears to be a suture kit and a long, thick curved needle.
“I need some men to keep his mouth open, please.” She makes the order so kindly as she feeds the suture line through the eye of the needle. It looks like thick black yarn, but much more strong and intimidating.
Giorgio tries to protest, though Kenneth and another Adder jump at the chance to aid in his torture. They pry his jowls open, hinging either side of his jaw with their large hands. Giorgio’s nostrils flare in anger as he tries to thrash within the chair, yelling, sputtering and spitting.
My girl dons hospital gloves and walks toward Giorgio, needle in hand, and slowly pierces him with it just under his jawline.
He shrieks in pain as tears fall from his eyes.
I spy Kenneth reach for Giorgio’s tongue and stretch the pink member out and over his bottom teeth.
He holds it in place as Brielle again pierces under the jaw, then through Giorgio’s tongue.
His screaming amplifies, interspersed with his pathetic sobs, as Brielle loops the needle back under his jaw and through the tongue a few more times, sewing it in place. Blood trickles down his neck and teeth, trailing after his tears .
After Brielle ties off the thread, she stands before Giorgio’s crying, pained form with a stoic face.
“Will someone cut his clothing off, please? I don’t think he should have the privilege of a woman’s touch on his last living day,” she calmly states as multiple men step up and begin manhandling Giorgio’s clothes, ripping off the thousand-dollar pinstripe suit until he sits bare in the wooden chair. His body shakes in the winter chill.
Brielle stalks toward him and reaches for the meat hooks from the ceiling. Then she shoves both into Giorgio’s shoulder blade, piercing the skin, causing him to scream in agony. She nods at Biscuit, and he pulls Giorgio of out the chair, hauling his bare body into the air by the hooks.
Thick streaks of crimson slide down Giorgio’s back and slowly down the back of his thighs.
His crying never ceases.
Each wail he releases forces him to move his tongue, increasing the pain being delivered to his body.
“How many women have you tortured, Giorgio?” Brielle asks, surely knowing he cannot fully answer her question.
“I have over thirty burns on my body from my ex-husband,” she continues, retelling the horror story she lived with her ex-spouse, causing me to grind my teeth, considering my men do not deserve the privilege of knowing her story, her vulnerabilities.
As she tells her history, she circles Giorgio and begins her ministrations, filleting Giorgio’s thighs, much like the Krauts had filleted my skin. I cringe as the dark memory emerges, but push it down.
Brielle takes out a larger knife from the array I equipped her with earlier and slices into the back of both his Achilles tendons.
He screeches and it causes the pigs to scream in the other room.
Brielle stabs into the back of Giorgio’s knees, the blade sticking out from the underside of one kneecap. One of my men vomits in the corner as others grimace and groan, disturbed.
Brielle stands before Giorgio like the goddess of death.
“You will never touch a woman again,” she states, then looks at Kenneth and asks him to obtain something for her .
He nods and replies, “With pleasure, ma’am.” He returns swiftly, holding an adder in gloved hands. Then Brielle points to Giorgio’s groin.
Kenneth outstretches the adder and it lunges for Giorgio’s cock, biting it repeatedly as he kicks his legs in agony.
Then my malicious woman turns toward me, her steps closing the space between us as I see her gaze seeking my approval.
When she is finally within range, I grasp her close and whisper in her ear, “I’m so proud of you.”