Chapter 21
Saint
Back in the dungeon while Lake is at therapy, Nolan, Bishop, and Holden are at my side, ready to follow my lead.
Our “guests” have been locked down here for days: no food, no water, no bathrooms. The floors are a mess, and all three men are lethargic and look ready for death.
Which isn’t necessarily off the table. Allowing them to live in a world where Lake is thriving might be too much for me.
An idea hits, and a sick smile crosses my lips. “Take off their masks and tape.”
Bishop and Holden respond quickly, jerking the hoods off without a care that the tape over their mouths rips off their skin.
They blink rapidly, adjusting to the light after days filled with darkness. I give them a few minutes before pulling up a chair to sit in front of Holt and Craig, ignoring Jeremy. “I’ve got a deal for you both.”
Pale and gaunt, they share a look before Craig finally asks, “What is it?” His voice cracks a bit.
“You two kill Jeremy, and you’re free to go.”
Their heads drop, but they haven’t said no.
“You can’t be serious,” Jeremy wails. “Why do I die?”
Nolan grabs a chunk of his greasy brown hair and yanks his head up. “Because you’re the one who started everything. You raped Lake first. You scared her first. You started laughing when the others protested, but they were too fucking weak to stop you and face your wrath.”
If he had any moisture in his eyes, I’m sure he’d be crying right now.
“The fact is, Jeremy, Lake remembers your cruelty most of all. How rough you were, how you feasted on her tears. You had no remorse for what the four of you did to her,” Holden explains.
We all read Lake’s journals. We know what happened, her thoughts, her fears, everything she went through.
All of it centered on what Jeremy put into motion.
Getting to my feet, I go to a cabinet in the far wall, searching out Luther’s famous blow torch. He’s used it on many of men over the years, and I think there was a time Ariel had been involved once.
Locating it, I flick it to life and stare down mercilessly at Holt and Craig. “You can do as I say, or your balls can feel the heat.” If anything remained in their stomachs, they’d be vomiting right now; that’s how green they are.
“Okay, okay,” Holt sobs brokenly. “I didn’t even want to be there that day. I’ve been sick with what I’ve done ever since.”
That I believe. The trajectory his life took tells me so.
Bishop unlocks the guy’s chains, and he falls at my feet, weak and crying, before staggering to stand.
Reaching behind my back, I offer him a knife. “I don’t care how you do it, but he dies here, or all of you do.” Holt whimpers at my snarl.
“I can’t do it,” Craig sobs and begins to pray. I brush the lit flame across his face, he screams, then passes out.
“Jesus, that’s one way to shut him up, I guess.” Bishop looks slightly horrified but still impressed.
“Hearts here, man,” Nolan helpfully points out for Holt.
Jeremy begins to beg his old friend, “Please don’t do this. I’ve got a wife and two kids. They need me!”
Holt’s anger seems to take hold, and I signal for Holden to record what he does next.
“I had my whole life ahead of me until that day.” He plunges the knife into Jeremy’s shoulder, missing anything vital, and drags it back out.
“She had her entire life ahead of her, too!” Another plunge, this time in his gut.
Blood gushes as Holt pulls back, but he’s not finished yet.
“So, what you’re saying is that Jeremy has everything, while you have nothing?” Nolan taunts, appealing to Holt’s resentment as Craig begins to come back around. His whimpers are annoying, but the fear in his eyes when I light the torch again amuses me.
“Yes!” Holt shouts, meeting Nolan’s gaze with savage intent.
He’s starting to enjoy this now. “You took everything from me, all because she turned you down, and those stupid sisters didn’t like that you weren’t giving them attention.
” Another plunge into the chest, and judging from the gurgling sounds, he hit a lung.
“Finish him,” Holden challenges, standing behind Holt and whispering in his ear, his own knife at the ready. It was laughable to think we’d allow any of these men to leave the dungeon breathing.
“I fucking hate you!” Holt screams as he plunges the knife one last time into Jeremy’s throat. Breathing heavily, he pulls it back, and blood spurts out, spraying like a geyser, hitting Craig in the face.
“And we hate you,” Holden whispers again, followed by his blade slicing through Holt’s back, severing the spinal cord and hitting an artery so he bleeds out quickly as he lands on the floor in a mix of his and Jeremy’s blood. Eyes wide and filled with shock, dying before he can ask why.
Our attention turns to Craig, and from the look in his eyes, he knows he’s next. “I thought I could let the three of you live,” I confess, and he bawls quietly. “But the more I looked at you, the more I realized, none of you could be allowed to breathe the same air as my Lake.”
His eyes bulge with fear as I step forward with the torch. He wants to beg and plead for me not to use it, but his lips are sealed. Literally. The skin has melted his mouth shut from the earlier brush of flame.
“Holden, you have a swamp for their bodies?”
He chuckles at the ludicrousness of my question because, of course, he does.
“Is that a real question?”
Shrugging, I step forward with the torch in one hand and the other behind my back, where Nolan places a machete in my open palm.
Craig thinks he’ll burn; instead, I bring the other hand forward, slicing clean through his neck as his head drops and rolls across the floor, stopping at the drain.
Lifeless eyes stare wide as if he could have begged his way out of death.
Nothing would stop this from happening, no matter how hard they tried.
No matter the false promises I made to them or myself.
Lake asked me to kill them, and I would never disappoint her.
One day, she might ask if I’ve done it, and I’ll tell her the truth, but she’ll never learn the details.
She doesn’t need that on her conscience.
My mission in life had always been to be the monster in the dark, then Lake was born.
I’m still the monster, but I’m hers now, and if she requests anything, I’ll make it happen.
It’s the very least she deserves after everything she’s lived through.
Her happiness will always be my own, and should she be as blood thirsty as me, even better.
“I have a woman waiting on me to pick her up, and I need to shower.”
“We’ll take care of this,” Nolan replies, rubbing his hands together. He enjoys dropping bodies in the swamp with Holden these days.
Turning around, I wash my hands in the sink that was installed here years ago and say, “Thanks for having my back.” It’s not often I dole out praise or thanks, so it seems I’ve thrown them off as I leave because they stay silent.
Before picking up Lake, I go home to shower and toss my bloody clothes in the wash. We have a date tonight, and she doesn’t need evidence of the carnage I took part in. Tonight is all about her and our love for each other.