by Keta Kendric
Her conflicted gaze remained on mine. I hadn’t missed the statement she’d spoken when I’d first approached the break room. Sorio and these assholes had been planning to rape her.
Regina glanced down at the man kneeling before me and her face creased with the unmistakable expression of hurt. It was all the answer I needed. I pulled the trigger. I didn’t feel the kick of the gun, but the blowback splattered against me as pieces of scalp and bone fragments stuck into the material of my clothes.
The man’s limp body following his splattered brains to the floor filled my view. Small dark puffs of smoke billowed from the walnut-sized hole the hot bullet had opened in his head before blood gushed from the hole like thick dark oil from a jug. The fingers on his left hand twitched as his body convulsed, knocking against the floor as it fought a battle it wasn’t going to win.
Five.
The others pleaded their case and begged for mercy with bulging eyes and hands in the prayer position. Their efforts were wasted on me. My mind had descended into the dark place that swallowed my remorse, drank my regret, and ate my sorrow. Nothing but rage and anger survived, and only death would snatch me from its relentless grip.
When I took the first step towards the next one, he scrambled away until his body hit the wall. I stepped across Sorio, glad to see his chest moving. I had plans for that cousin-raping motherfucker. By the time I was done with him, he would beg the devil to rescue him from me. Sorio would suffer, but I couldn’t do to him the one thing I wanted to do the most because that honor belonged to Regina.
“On your goddamn knees,” I barked at the next asshole who was about to meet death. I shoved my gun down the back of my pants and extracted my hunting knife. The sharp edge of the thick serrated blade was ready to rip through flesh and bite bone.
The man’s wide gaze followed the sharp black blade as I stood positioned at his side. With our backs to the wall, we faced Regina, Aaron, and D. The man’s body trembled against my left hand that I’d placed on his shoulder. If we hadn’t shown up, he could have been raping Regina right now. The idea caused a blaze of fury to course through my body as my left eye twitched. My grip tightened around the knife in my hand.
The pulse in the side of the man’s head revealed that his heart was about to blow up. The fucker was so scared that I spotted wetness darkening the seat of his khaki pants.
Again, I glanced up at Regina. “Did he put his hands on you?”
“Aaron, stop this,” she pleaded in a low tone, pulling on Aaron’s arm.
“Just tell him, Regina, because I believe you know that I’d be doing the same fucking thing.”
Her gaze traveled around Aaron and met D’s. D pointed at Aaron and winked at Regina. “What he said.”
Regina glanced back at me when Aaron and D didn’t ease whatever guilt she harbored. She nodded, and I assumed she’d turn away, but she continued to watch. I raised my knife, keeping my gaze on hers before I plunged it into the man’s chest. I believed she got the message loud and clear. Anyone that laid a hand on her in harm was as good as dead. I didn’t care if it was in her past, present, or future.
The deep, hard thrust sounded like I’d gut-punched the man as a grunt left his throat before he started gurgling blood. The knife scraped a rib before it sank deeper, hungry for a taste of blood as it ripped through his heart. I extracted the knife with a quick yank, ripping away a piece of flesh and shirt in the process.
Blood squirted hard and fast while some bubbled under his gray shirt, painting it a dark red that appeared black. The metallic scent of blood was welcomed. I inhaled it, relishing who it was being spilled from.
The man clawed at his chest with hooked fingers, his contorted face frozen in awe and fear. His throat clucked as it bobbed up and down. His knees gave, and his body slid sideways but didn’t go all the way down. His delayed scream ripped from his clogged throat and sent blood shooting from his mouth.
The blood hit the wooden floor, sounding like a cup of rocks had been tossed. I sent my knife to the left of his Adam’s apple to shut him up and kicked my foot into his chest to dislodge his body from my knife.
Four.
His body fell as he twitched, thudding against the floor. The pleading cries of his friend was nothing more than theme music, the cries of the dead.
After ordering the last one to his knees, I glanced back at Regina. She must have wanted it over because she nodded once and shoved her face into Aaron’s shoulder. I left two deep thrusts of my knife in the last one’s chest, but he fought death, clinging to life with a fierce desire.
My knife plunged into the side of his neck. The sharp jab struck his vertebra and the knife twisted in my hand. It sliced through his flesh enough to open a wide hole that left his head hanging lopsided on his shoulders. The sight of his fatty tissue and shredded pink meat sat exposed before his heart constricted and sent a strong squirt of blood out of the opening. I didn’t even wait for his body to fall before I walked away.
Three.
The act of dispensing death hadn’t eased the thick fog of anger that continued to surround me. I stood over Sorio and stared down at the asshole I wanted to torture for the next thirty years. Regina’s gaze found mine and washed away a large portion of my anxiety.
“All I need is an hour alone with him, Regina. Then, I’ll let you have him,” I voiced.
“What?” whispered past her lips as she watched me stand over the man that had shown her hell on earth.
“Make that two hours. I’ll make him think it’s a lifetime. Then, you can make good on the plan you had when he held you captive.”
Regina’s brows lifted as her posture took on a more assured stance. With the other men, she’d hesitated, but for Sorio, there wasn’t a moment’s hesitation as she nodded. A small smile danced in her eyes but didn’t sit on her lips as “Gina” peeked out.
51
Regina
The thread of hope I’d clung to hadn’t been ripped away by the storm that had blown into my life. Ansel had come for me just like he said he would. The angel that my cousin claimed was watching his back had been the angel of death.
With Sorio stuffed into and tied up in the back of one of the stolen SUVs, Ansel drove August to pick up Megan. August had insisted we pick her up before we traveled to our final destination. Since Sorio had put a hit out on Megan, August likely wanted her to bear witness to his demise.
D, Rob, Scott, and Marcus had stayed at the DG6 dope house to destroy any evidence that might indicate that we’d been there. They’d mentioned explosives, so I’d eventually see something on the news about the place being destroyed.
By the time Sorio was awakened by more drugs, D, Rob, Scott, and Marcus had completed their clean up job. At nine in the morning, most of the dew had dried, and the sun sat high in the sky. The southern California temperature was perfect at seventy-five degrees.
Megan and I sat on either side of August at Ansel’s dining table at his house in the hills. The rest of the men had raided the kitchen. They’d gathered on the large living room couch, yelling at a sports show playing on the large screen in front of them like Sorio screaming inside Ansel’s garage wasn’t a big deal.
“Aww! Oh God. Nooo!”
The sound of Sorio screaming for God was something I’d never expected to hear in this lifetime. I didn’t think he believed in God. At least three different cutting and drilling devices had sounded as I sat and waited.
Although I relished the idea of getting revenge against my cousin, I’d harbored doubts about following through with the act. I believed Ansel needed this more than I did. If he didn’t release the anger he felt towards Sorio, it would lead to him seeking out others to kill. I was certain he’d never hurt me, but it didn’t stop me from worrying about his mental health.
I loved Ansel. Therefore, I wanted him healthy on all fronts.
Sorio’s screams and the thundering sound of hard objects scraping the floor drew me away from my internal musings. During the time I’
d been a prisoner to my family, I’d become accustomed to the silence of the dead, so the yelling of the living was a bit unsettling.
The horrid screams that came from Sorio raised goosebumps on my arms, but I’d accepted that they hadn’t surfaced because I was sad or scared. Guilt for what I sat through didn’t register. When his screams grew so loud they rattled the walls, I stifled a smile at his suffering.
My mind fell back on the man I’d come to care so much about. I worried about Ansel more than I cared about exacting revenge on my cousin.
“He’s been screaming the entire time.” I stated the obvious, not wanting anyone to catch on to who I was truly worried about. “Shouldn’t he have passed out by now?” I asked August and Megan although I knew the answer.
August turned his attention away from Megan, glanced at me, and smiled. They had been carrying on a casual conversation like this was a normal occurrence.
“You’re a doctor,” August stated. “You know there are things he can be given to make him wake up and stay awake.”
My brows lifted. Was there anything these men couldn’t get? Was there anything they weren’t in to?
“You know the only reason Ansel doesn’t kill him is because he wants him to suffer for as long as possible. If it were up to him, he’d keep Sorio alive for as long as he held you hostage and torture him every day,” August pointed out.
“So, why doesn’t he?” I asked. The coldness in my voice froze the air around me and caused Megan’s and August’s brows to lift.
“Because he’d rather you exact your revenge now that he knows what that asshole did to you.”
“Ansel doesn’t have to do this. I’m worried about him, August,” I stated, finally revealing my concern.
August knew that Sorio had beaten me, but only Ansel knew how far the abuse had gone. I stood, and August placed a hand over mine to keep me in place.
“Trust me, Regina. You don’t want to go in there,” he urged with an expression of warning on his face.
“What? Why?” I queried, not ignoring the caution in August’s gaze.
“I know you have seen about every type of dead body there is, but it’s different when it’s a living person staring back at you. Ansel was called ‘The Reaper’ in the military. On the rare occasion when he asks to be alone with someone, let him have his time. Trust me, it’s not something you want to bear witness too. When he reaps a person, he picks apart their soul, piece by piece.” August shook his head like he was shaking off a memory. “The Ansel you know is not in that garage right now.”
“Awww! My bones! Oh God, please! My bones!” came Sorio’s unmerciful screams, adding to the warning that August gave. The fact that Sorio’s screams inside the closed garage was seeping into the house was a testament as to the type of torture Ansel was dishing out.
August pointed at the men sitting in the living room, but his gaze was on me as I retook my seat. “Why do you think they aren’t in there? Ansel doesn’t ask to be alone often, but when he does, we respect his request.”
August’s words scared me. I’d forced myself to understand so much about Ansel already, and now, there was more. August didn’t address the crease of concern in my face.
D walked up and glanced across the table at me. “Regina, you have nothing to worry about. I’ve worked with Ansel enough times to know that some of what he does comes from him.” D pointed at August. “If you ask me, they are just alike. Yet, one is always claiming the other is worse.”
Should I have been relieved or more stressed about that revelation?
Before I could think on it any further, Ansel came in from the garage, wiping his hands on a large beige towel. He’d asked for two hours with Sorio and hadn’t gone a minute over. He’d wiped away most of the sweat on his face and neck, but sprinkles clung to the edges of his hairline. His hands had been drenched based on the amount of blood he’d wiped onto the towel. His gaze found mine, and I stood, unsure of what to say or do.
His smile cast away every doubt I’d had about him as he stepped to within a foot of me.
“Are you okay?” I inquired in a low tone, not asking because I believed he was physically hurt.
“I’m fine,” he confirmed in his normal voice. He was the Ansel I knew, not the grim reaper that August had warned me about.
“I left you more than enough of him,” he informed.
Ansel must have noticed the doubt in my expression.
“You are going to get the revenge you deserve,” he urged. “Do I need to pull the Dom card and order you to? That motherfucker doesn’t deserve a drop of your sympathy.”
“I don’t feel sorry for him. And you don’t have to turn Dom on me because you’re right,” I stated with certainty.
“Would you like to do to him what you told me you’d planned?” Ansel questioned.
I nodded with pinched lips, not believing what I was agreeing to.
“We’ll set him up for you,” he stated as he slung the bloody towel over his shoulder. He lowered his face to mine and placed a sweet kiss on my lips that I gladly accepted. The fact that he’d kissed me in a room filled with his friends and family spoke volumes.
Without saying a word, the rest of the men, including August stood and followed Ansel into the garage when he walked away.
Megan stood next to me as we watched the closed door the men had exited through. When her warm hand wrapped around mine, I took it and squeezed it.
“Welcome to the family, Doc,” she greeted matter-of-factly.
52
Regina
As I stood staring at the man who’d taken a part of my soul and ripped it into shreds, sorrow never factored into the situation. I hadn’t a clue as to what Ansel had done to him, but from the looks of him, Sorio hadn’t been played with in a nice way.
Every part of this exposed skin was covered in cuts and bruises, and the outside crotch area of his pants was bloody. Based on the vile scent that had my nose hairs curling and the dark wet stain in his butt area, he’d defecated.
Even at a distance, it appeared the devil had gotten ahold of Sorio. I relished the sight of such an evil force being reduced to a sobbing heap. His sniveling cries found my ears, and I did nothing to hide the smirk on my lips or the taste of vengeance on my tongue.
Ansel and crew had staged him in the yard away from the house. Sorio was face up and displayed between two sets of metal poles: two at his head and two at his feet, each a couple of feet apart. His body was stretched by chain links that had been attached to each of his limbs and anchored to each of the thick metal poles. His limbs were spread apart as his body dangled about two feet off the ground. Each time his body started to sag, the chains dug into the flesh of his exposed ankles and his wrists and bit deeper.
Since Ansel’s house was out in the middle of the hills, any hope for a rescue on Sorio’s part was out of the question. He was displayed on Ansel’s sidewalk, the concrete beneath him.
Pain radiated through his cries. Suffering bled through his mumbled rants. His face was a canvas of agony. My gaze lingered on his every move and facial expression as my ears tuned in to the music of his demise.
I’d been taught to forgive. I’d been taught to be sympathetic to another’s pain. I’d been taught that revenge wasn’t something you sought but left in the hands of God. So, why did my cousin’s suffering give me a tremendous sense of joy? Why did I want him to know that I knew he suffered? Why did I want to see the agony on his face? Why did I want him to suffer more than he already had?
Sorio needed to experience some of the pain he’d inflicted upon me. He needed to experience the mental anguish he’d left me with over the years. He needed to know that I would be the one to see him take his last worthless breath.
Ansel broke my concentration when he handed me a plastic bottle of accelerant. As always, his eyes had been on me the entire time, waiting for me to change my mind, I suppose. Now that Sorio was in front of me, I started to appreciate my opportunity at revenge.
August had offered me the opportunity to exact my revenge before, and I’d turned him down. Not this time. Thanks to Sorio’s arrogance and twisted obsession with me, he would wallow in the hell I intended to bath him in.
Although he squirmed under the weight of his impending doom, Sorio was too stubborn and hateful to ever beg me for his life. I didn’t need him to, nor did I want him to beg. All I sought were his screams filling my ears. I wanted him screaming until I got sick of the sound of his voice. I wanted to witness the exact moment when his soul was snatched from his body and dragged down to hell.
Ensuring Sorio had a clear view of my face, I stepped closer. His eyes widened for a moment and the last thing I expected to see, surfaced: fear. He was afraid of what I would do to him.
I leaned in closer, my gaze glued to his. I gathered every drop of saliva in my mouth and spat in his face. His fear-filled eyes blinked in rapid flicks, but he didn’t say a word, knowing he deserved much worse.
At the closer view, I noticed a bloody piece of meat in his hand. If I knew Ansel half as well as I was starting to get to know him, Sorio’s dick had been tied to his palm. The sight of his severed member was a gift that dissolved the last bit of the hold he’d held over a part of my body.
He stretched his neck, attempting to watch me back away, anxiousness climbing over his distress to observe my moves. I aimed the bottle of accelerant at his body but stopped myself just as a few drops dripped to the ground.
Lighting Sorio in a blaze was too merciful a death. At this moment, I realized that I was in full agreement with Ansel. Sorio’s pain and suffering needed to be a lasting one. I wanted every mean and nasty thing he’d done, to haunt him before he took the journey to hell.
I aimed the accelerant, but it wasn’t at his body. It was aimed at the ground beneath him. The big grin on Ansel’s face indicated that he understood what I was about to do to Sorio. Marcus placed a hand over his mouth and the word, “Wicked,” slid between his fingers. A couple of low and elongated whistles came from the other guys. They stood and watched me as I prepared to roast a human, and not one of them was going to stop me.