Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
With my face inches from his, I can smell his fear.
“It took her two weeks before she was brave enough to leave the hospital room. It took her three and a half weeks to sleep in a bed. It took her a month to interact with another person without having a panic attack.”
His fear intensifies, and worry creeps into his eyes, as he squeezes the word out, “W-who?”
Letting go of his neck, I take a step back while a dark chuckle rumbles from me. “Ciara.” I throw the card against his chest. “She chose this card specifically for you.” I watch as he realizes just how fucked he truly is. “She gave me a message to give to you.”
His breaths are audible over his lips, and I can just imagine how fast his heart is beating.
“She belongs to me.”
Ciara was right, it hits him square in the fucking gut and his head snaps back, a crazed look flitting over his face before the fear returns.
“For her birthday she kissed me willingly, and I fucking made her moan. I didn’t have to take shit from her. She gave it freely.”
This time the crazed expression tightens his features, and the fucker actually tries to stare me down.
“Ciara loves sleeping in my arms because it’s the only fucking place she feels safe. She touches me every single chance she gets because she doesn’t want me leaving her side.”
He lifts his chin as he spits out, “Where is she then, if she can’t fuckin’ live without you?” He makes a show of glancing around the room. “I don’t see her glued to your side.”
I lunge at him, and swiping his feet from under him, I forcefully slam him down on the floor before getting right up in his face. “You took a sweet, innocent fucking woman and tortured her for months because your pathetic ass, couldn’t get a woman like her any other way. You chained her like an animal. You took away her free will. You…” I breathe hard in his face. “I’m going to take everything you used to torture her from you.”
Shoving away from the fucker, I rise to my feet, and order, “Strap him down.”
Samuel and Jorge move forward, and Nolan tries to climb to his feet and run, but they grab him without much effort and drag his worthless ass to the mortuary bed.
“No!” he shouts. “No! Wait! No!”
Hauling him onto the steel surface, Pedro secures the shackles around his arms and thighs, securing the fucker in place.
I take a moment to calm down so I don’t kill him too quick. I roll my shoulders, then say, “I’m a fair man. I’ll let you choose.” I wave my hand over the table. “Which do you want me to use on you. The saw, ax, or knife?”
“W-what? No!”
I let out a sigh and walk to the table. “Fine. I’ll choose.” I pick up the reciprocating saw and switch it on. “Don’t say I didn’t do you any favors.”
“Noooo!” he shouts, his eyes wide with terror.
“Calm down. I haven’t even gotten started yet,” I mutter. “Christ, you’re dramatic.”
Pedro lets out a snort, and Samuel’s shoulders shake as he tries to hold in the laughter.
“You’re all fuckin’ crazy,” Nolan shouts while trying to get free from the shackles.
I move to the side of the table and pin his forearm to the steel surface. “I suppose it takes a little insanity to do what I’m about to do to you.” Shrugging, I bring the saw down on his hand, removing four of his fingers.
His scream bounces off the walls, the sound pure fucking music to my ears.
I switch off the saw and set it down on the table before picking up one of the fingers, holding it in front of his face so he can see it.
“I love how it cuts through flesh and bone like it’s butter.”
Nolan gasps, spittle flying from his mouth while sweat coats his skin.
I drink in the sight of the pain in his eyes.
“Come on, suck it up. Losing your fingers is nothing compared to what you put Ciara through.” I pat his cheek. “Dig deep. We still have weeks ahead of us.”
I drop the finger on his chest before I pick up the saw, switching it on again.
“P-please,” he begs, tears rolling over his temples.
Samuel comes to tend to the hand I’m done with while I move to the other side of the table.
I grip hold of his other forearm, and it has Nolan shaking his head wildly. Seeing the petrified expression glazing his eyes, I mutter, “Don’t lose your shit yet. I need you to be coherent for this.”
I bring the saw down, cutting through his wrist.
Nolan’s back arches as he screams in agony, before he slumps down, looking delirious with pain.
With the saw still humming, I step closer to his head and lean over him. “That should take care of the masturbation problem you have.”