32. #2
“Mission accomplished.” I laugh to myself, then make sure to keep my eyes on Fred’s fluttering ones as I touch the sharp edge of my blade to my tongue.
With a satisfied grunt, I slowly lick the length of it, and feel goosebumps pricking my skin as Fred’s blood slides down my mouth.
It hits my throat, and I swallow it a little too eagerly, shuddering a little when the riveting, metallic, and slightly salty taste overtakes my senses.
“How’s it taste?” Cignette asks.
Our gazes meet, and the smile we give each other is rightfully bittersweet.
“Like a dead bully,” I answer, then look down at Fred again. He is, to my utter delight, drawing breaths. Barely, but still.
Studying my handiwork, I press my teeth against my bottom lip and roll up my shirt’s right sleeve further up my arm. And then, just because I can , I push my fingers into the bleeding cut I’ve made on my victim.
Fred’s eyeballs bulge out of his sockets as I slide my hand, and then half my forearm inside his middle, feeling the fading heat of his innards and the silk-smooth wetness of his blood.
I hear a few gasps, followed by loud heaving as some of Fred’s guards, still on their knees, start vomiting around me.
“Weaklings,” I mutter, twisting my hand inside Fred’s body. Raw meat squelches under my palms, and thin sprays of blood spurt out from the opening. My fingers press against a thick tube, and I grin, having found the leverage I was looking for.
The sound of multiple splatters meets my ears as the guards continue to retch, which is quickly followed by the sweet-sour, bile-laced stench of their vomit as it pollutes the air I’m breathing.
I click my tongue and glance around. Aras, Magner, and Solo appear disgusted while standing behind a group of sickly-looking guards, whereas Alex, Varsha, and Safiya seem to be having a jolly-good time mocking the security personnel they have knelt before them.
Heyman, to my surprise, hasn’t ejected a single drop of vomit from that vile mouth of his.
He is , however, giving me a glare that could most probably put acid to shame.
Too bad there’s no antidote for someone like me.
Cigs is observing her surroundings with keen eyes and a visibly tired face.
God, how I want to rush to her and force her into letting me get her some much-needed medical attention.
I can’t, though, not now; I’ve got a job to finish.
I know I’ve dragged Fred’s torture for a bit too long, but a man like him deserves the kind of hell I can serve, and good things take time, so naturally, this task is, too.
I let go of a breath and assess the guards, then whistle two short notes so that I can get their attention.
“I don’t put on a show for just about anybody, so make sure you’re watching what I’m doing, because you’re lucky to have gotten premier seats to my show.
” And with that, I grab hold of Fred’s large intestine and yank it out of his body.
The organ – meshed with torn, bleeding tissues and slimy liquid – contracts and expands twice against my grip, then goes limp and slops sideways.
Fred doesn’t even twitch this time; his mouth simply distorts as if he were about to scream, and then he goes completely still.
Dead at last.
Fredrick Byron, CEO of the illustrious Byron industries, has just taken his last breath, all thanks to yours truly.
I throw the slippery organ on Fred’s corpse and lean back on my heels. Looking up at my crew, I nod at Solo and Varsha, who immediately rack their pistols, chambering rounds.
The piercing sound of gunshots shatters through the heavy silence as one by one, Fred’s guards drop face-first into their own brain-matter and bile after Solo and Varsha blast open their skulls.
“No! Fucking no! Stop this at once!” Heyman screeches. “Take the stupid fucking gun away from my face!”
I’m about to turn and ask Chris to just shoot the goddamn asshole when his panicked voice rings out like an alarm.
“Whoa, hey! Hey! Give me my fucking gun back, Heyman!”
I swivel my head in their direction, and every fiber of my body locks up as I see Heyman stumbling to his feet with Chris’s wide-ranged pistol in hand – aimed directly at Cignette.
Chris grapples with the bastard, trying his best to snatch the pistol from him, but Heyman simply won’t give up. He shoves and punches through Chris’s offenses, and then, the inevitable happens: a gunshot is fired. With the weapon pressed so close between them, it was bound to go off.
My brain finally signals my legs to move, and I use Fred’s corpse as support to get off him, just as Chris cries out and steps away from Heyman.
The former’s stomach is punctured and bleeding from the bullet wound Heyman gave him.
And the worst part? The bullet has exited through his back, likely having ruptured his spine.
Chris stares down at himself as he tumbles to the ground, blood leaking down his lips and onto his uniform. His chest rises once, falls, but then it doesn’t rise again. He’s dead, just like that.
“What the hell have you done!” Cignette screams at Heyman before limping over to Chris’s aid.
“Cigs, no!” I yell, running to her, but someone else beats me to it.
“Cigs, get back!” Alex races up to her, just as Heyman fires again.
It all happens so fast, yet so slow. One moment, I’m closing the distance between Cigs and I, and the next, Alex is beside her and is pulling her away from the oncoming bullet. But he’s a second too late.
Cignette howls in pain as Heyman’s shot rings true, catching her in the right arm.
My ears are buzzing; my head is heavy. Heat – red-hot, burning heat – climbs up my neck and glides down my body as I change routes and lock eyes with Heyman.
He drops the gun as if it’s caught fire, then turns to make a run for it, but a flashing blur bypasses his escape, tackling him to the ground.
Magner cages Fred’s lackey under him, then connects a resounding punch to his blubbering face before hauling him up to his misbalanced feet by the collar of his jacket.
I close the distance between Heyman and I, then briefly look to my left, where Alex is checking on Cigs.
“Little Swan?”
She brings her glimmering eyes to mine, then nods my way. “I’m fine, I promise; the bullet only grazed my arm.”
I grit my teeth as I look at Heyman once more. Magner steps away from him, but doesn’t go too far, in case the asshole tries to run from us again.
I grab Heyman’s trembling jaw with my soiled hand, then lean in and sneer at him.
“I should cut you into a dozen pieces right now, I know I should,” I say to him.
“But you mentioned something about Fred being avenged; that there’s someone who might be willing to come to your aid.
Your savior , perhaps.” I laugh. “So, what I want you to do now, Heyman, is to run to him. Run to your apparent messiah and tell him everything that happened here tonight. Every. Single. Thing. And then tell him that Dorran motherfucking Ledger is right here in Anaheim in case he wants to chat, or better yet, have a good time. Will you do that for me?”
Heyman seems stunned, too shocked to speak. He’s staring up at me with an ashen face and parted lips.
“Answer him, dickhead,” Magner hisses at him, clutching the back of his thick neck and shaking him once.
“I-I-I…” Heyman stutters, then swallows. “I will,” he breathes out. “I swear it’s the first thing I’ll do.”
I grin. “ Good .” Patting his now-stained jaw, I move back and jerk my head forward. “Off you go. You’ve got a message to deliver, after all. Chop-chop, Heyman.”
As soon as Magner releases him, Heyman gasps and darts out of our space, panting even before he starts running towards the garden’s clearing.
His steps are heavy, his speed compromised because of his heavy frame.
But he runs, and just before he goes out of view, he turns around and gives me a look of utter contempt.
I wiggle my bloody fingers at him, which only makes him run harder.
Magner chuckles. “What a shitshow.”
“The night, or our escaped prisoner?” I ask.
“ Both ,” he muses.
I laugh, and he quickly joins in.
“Dorran!” Safiya calls out.
I whip my head at her, and immediately start running when I notice her and Alex holding an unconscious Cignette between them.
“What the fuck happened?” the question rushes out of me as soon as I reach them. I step in front of Alex and gently lift Cignette in my arms, settling her head into the crook of my neck.
I study the even rhythm of her breaths and the handkerchief covering her bullet wound. And then I look at her torn dress and bruised ankle, and my anger threatens to push itself out of my burning veins.
“She just fainted out of the blue,” Varsha answers my question, making me turn my attention to her. “She was fine a second ago, and then she fell against Safiya.”
“It wasn’t sudden,” I state. “She collapsed on me earlier; I told her she needed to get checked out. But she wanted to watch Fred die first, and I just couldn’t say no.”
“Hey, it’s fine, don’t worry,” Aras says, walking over to me. “I’ve checked her pulse already, and it seems steady. I’ve also just called an ambulance, so help’s on the way. She’ll be fine, Ledger.”
“I’ll get cars ready for the rest of us,” Magner announces, then jogs off to the exit.
“I’m assuming she’s concussed,” Solo remarks, then places a hand on my shoulder. “That, and the shock of getting hit with a gunshot must’ve stressed her brain. Try not to drown yourself in what’s happened already, kid, and focus on the present moment. She’ll need you while she recovers.”
I swallow, then exhale softly. “Yeah, I know.” I sniff and glance down at Cigs, then press her body further against mine.
Solo pats my shoulder before pulling away his hand. “Let’s head out and wait for the ambulance on estate grounds, everyone,” he orders, making his way towards the clearing.
Aras joins him, followed closely by the rest of my crew.
I’ve only just reached halfway through the garden when a shadow moves to my right. My feet falter, then stop completely as I look in its direction, and see what, or rather who , is leaning against one of the massive hedges.
Jayce.
My mouth dries out; my head starts spinning. I am well aware that this is just a fickle of my imagination, yet somehow, I want this moment to last as long as it possibly can.
Jayce smiles, and a tear slides down my face as I smile back at him.
“ I miss you ,” I whisper the words, too afraid I might end this mirage if I speak any louder.
Jayce’s smile turns rueful. “ I love you, brother .” The chilly wind carries his voice to me, and before I can tell him that I love him as well, he turns and disappears into the hedge, leaving me aching and empty.
“Ledge?”
I blink and look forward, and see Alex watching me with a confused expression on his face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I clear my throat. “Nothing,” I say, then give him a faint smile.
“Right.” He scans my face for a second too long, then sighs and shakes his head. “Let’s go, come on.”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat a second time and resume walking, not at all daring to look at the hedge to my right again.