Chapter 76 #3
Moving around the back, I take in where the meat hooks are lodged in his back, the skin around each hook stretched from the weight of his hanging body.
Blood trails down each wound, over his bound hands, into the dark crack of his ass.
The push at his body with my foot, the momentum spins his body like a carcass ready for the butcher to slaughter flesh from bone.
He grunts, but doesn’t react otherwise, his pain receptors somewhat dulled by the narcotic deep into his bloodstream.
I encircle his body until I face him. His naked body is covered in the dried blood from Camryn’s stab wounds.
I run my knife along the puncture wounds, hating that he has even one drop of her blood on him.
He doesn’t deserve any of her DNA; every molecule belongs to me.
When he first arrived, I sealed each of his injuries with liquid bandage, not wanting him to bleed out before I got my turn.
The three stab wounds in his abdomen give some satisfaction.
I’m fucking proud of the damage Camryn caused.
My fierce countess got her licks in before she passed out, but I want more.
I’m nowhere near appeased. I want, no, I need to annihilate him.
For every wound on his body, hers are tripled.
I close my eyes again. Sophia’s whispered phone call still buzzes in my brain.
“Listen Jace would kill me if he knew I was calling you, but I thought you should know she’s out of surgery, and—”
Surgery. I didn’t let Sophia finish. “Is she okay?”
“She’s alive. Thirty stab wounds,” she continued. “Hyphema. They surgically repaired a few blood vessels that he nicked. She also has some micro-fractures in her neck bones from where he tried to—”
Strangle her. I know precisely the bones El Jefe could have destroyed had he succeeded. Hyoid bone. Larynx. Thyroid cartilage. Cricoid cartilage. Her beautiful, sassy voice was possibly destroyed by his fingers.
“She’s in recovery. She woke up a few minutes ago. She’s still coming down from anesthesia, but she’s—”
“Thank you for calling me.”
“Wait! She’s as—”
I disconnected the call, unable to listen to it anymore.
Icy hot hatred clouded all my rational thought.
I shake away the horrors of Cam’s injuries.
This fucker inserted her knife into her body 30 times, and not for pleasure.
He didn’t use shallow, safe, controlled cuts.
He didn’t intend to play and test her limits.
He didn’t do it to let her enjoy the heightened sense of danger, the pleasure-pain that can come with knife play.
He didn’t do it because he wanted her to orgasm.
He had no plans to take care of her wounds and make sure she was okay after her climax ended.
He did it to brutalize her, to kill her.
I slap his face, liking the way his head snaps to the left.
“Wake the fuck up,” I growl, waiting for him to open his eyes fully.
When he starts to blink, I press harder, and his eyes pop open.
His pupils are dilated. His body is reacting to the pain, and I want even more.
I want his tears. His penance for hurting what’s mine.
He’s aware now. He stares at me, hatred in his eyes.
That’s fine. Hating me is the last thing he’ll do.
I trail my knife from his temple over his eyes.
He closes them and presses inward, feeling the bulbous shape of his eyeball, testing the orb’s bounciness.
I move past his nose to his ear, watching my knife, while I feel his intense focus on me.
Down I go, over his chest to the softness of his belly.
He sucks in a breath, and I finally look at him.
He’s scared, but pretending, fighting the natural inclination to fear a predator that is in complete control.
I press my knife into his genitals right on the sensitive skin of his scrotum, wanting to destroy them, especially if they were inside my woman.
“Did you rape her?” He must see something on my face because his swollen lips curve up, but he doesn’t reply. I push the tip of my knife deeper until I puncture him. He flinches, but doesn’t say a word. Perspiration covers his skin, and his breathing quickens. “Answer me.”
The hoarse voice that finally responds makes my hand shake. “Her screams were gorgeous. So much pain. I didn’t even mind that she begged for you to save her while I bred her.”
Guilt lacerates me, burning deep in my gut. Camryn needed me to be there before he could hurt her, and it takes everything in me not to react to his taunts. I breathe in slowly. He wants me to kill him faster; be done with it, but I refuse to let him have the satisfaction.
Slicing neatly through his scrotum, his balls, while shiny, filled with blood vessels, drop, hanging by thick arteries.
“You won’t need these anymore.” I slice through the connective tissue and hold the orbs in my hand.
He continues to watch me as I toss them into the bucket that will hold his organs once I’m finished.
My hand shakes at the thought of her calling for me.
That she needed me to be there before that bastard could hurt her.
Guilt lacerates me, burning deep in my gut.
It takes everything in me not to react to his taunts.
I breathe in slowly. He wants me to kill him faster; be done with it, but I can’t.
“You stabbed her twenty times.”
“I enjoyed it. Each time I stuck my knife into her I thought of you. Thought of how you would find her body. Bled out, filled with my cum. I planned to fuck her while she screamed your name, begging for you to save her. Too bad I didn’t get my chance.
It would have been nice to destroy what you love. ”
My hand moves reactively on his penis, slicing through it.
He shakes on the hooks, his legs twitching frantically, and he watches me saw through his flesh.
He can’t feel the pain, but there will be pressure, and the terror of seeing his penis be removed will fuck with his mind.
He’s bleeding more, rivulets drip down into the ground, and he curses me, calling me a monster.
“Takes one to know one.” I smile, flinging the limp piece of flesh into the bucket to join his balls.
“What about your sins?” He cackles, like we’re friends, but hate fills his eyes.
Blood is caked between the gaps of his teeth.
He spits on the ground and grins. “I’ve heard the rumors, El Búho.
You’re no better than me. Just another monster feeding your desires.
We both deserve death for what we’ve done.
Do you think she will accept you? Do you think she will love a killer.
One a body like yours? You are stupid if you think Camryn Park will keep you.
Her bloodlines and lineage won’t allow it.
You’re no better than a mongrel born in a trailer park.
A piece of trash. You’re bound for the same hell I am. ”
His words hit me right in the chest. That he’s right.
That Camryn won’t be able to accept the depths of my depravity.
He laughs and continues to laugh until I reach up and squeeze his mouth open.
“I’m going to cut your tongue out next. You don’t say her name.
” He growls, managing to spit more of his blood in my eyes.
I wipe it away, release him, and walk back to the table, where I pick up the dental cheek retractor and insert it.
It stretches his cheeks wide, exposing his gums and bloody teeth.
He locks his teeth together, but I smash his nose and eye until he opens his mouth.
I quickly grab my pliers, pull out his tongue, and cut through the thick muscle while he garbles and screams, blood spluttering out and down his chin, onto my hand and wrist.
The painkiller has worn off. Good. I toss the severed muscle into the bucket and turn to face my enemy once more, enjoying his moans of pain.
I deliver another push to his back, letting his body sway, a perfect gory pendulum.
Each oscillation stretches the skin on his back more.
Gravity and his body weight will soon be too much for the limitations of his skin.
Lifting his chin, I make sure he’s looking at me. “Keep those eyes open.”
He blinks and glares at me. It’s exactly what I want.
“This is for daring to look at her. Daring to think you could take her.” I stab into his eye socket.
He arches in his restraints, and an earsplitting cry ricochets off the wooden slabs of the barn wall.
Eventually, his screams stop, his nerves no longer reacting, shutting down from the atrocities I’m enacting on his body.
Painstakingly, I remove his eyes, delicately, precisely, until I can roll each orb around in my fingers.
I may keep them. Preserve them. Let him watch me dismember the rest of his body from a jar of formaldehyde.
I like the idea. I toss them in the bucket for later.
The dark hollows of his eye sockets stare back at me, and I head to the lever and lower the pulley, letting his blood fall.
His blood has soaked the ground, creating mud.
Using my foot, I manipulate his body into a fetal position.
I remove the large metal hooks from his skin.
The silver metal was stained with bits of his tissue and fat.
Dragging his body to where I need more light to work, I roll him onto his stomach, exposing the vast expanse of his back. I unroll my knife pouch and select the filleting knife, then carefully make a horizontal incision.
Working slowly and precisely, I complete my rectangular section and carefully remove the muscle underneath with quick slashes of my knife, ensuring that I don’t take too much muscle and fat along with the deep layers of skin.
He cries, mewling in the dirt, but he doesn’t move much more than muscle spasms and twitches, signaling the pain he must be feeling. All of it soothes the beast inside me.
Once I’m done, I lay it flat on my table. After I leave him in the woods, I’ll come back and remove the fat.
Picking up my heavy chain, I hook one end to the back of my ATV and then head back to what is left of the most feared drug, crime lord in the Mestizos.
I lift the hook over my head and bring it down, digging it into the exposed muscle of his back.
I dig it into the trapezius muscle, need it to stay put as I drag him through the forest. Picking up my Guthook knife, I saw that I had climbed aboard, looking back at the mangled mess of humanity behind me.