I knock on the door to see if he hears me, but he doesn’t. Instead, the guy actually leaves his store and walks away, just like that. Crazy, but it’s true. Guess he doesn’t wanna get involved in the dirty game he knows is about to go down. Although it’s gonna be a different kind of dirty than he probably thought.
I shrug. Not my monkeys, not my circus.
I look around and take in my surroundings. From the look of this room, I’m almost certain it’s soundproof. Probably because my business isn’t the only dirty business going down here.
It’s cool in here too, which isn’t surprising, considering meat is hanging from the hooks and lying on the racks. Shivering, I wait until I hear a sound coming from the back. In a small office up ahead, a man’s standing in the doorway with a cup of coffee in his hand. Rummaging in my pocket, I take out the knife and hold it tightly as I approach. He turns to look at the television hanging from the wall, and it makes me stop in my tracks.
Why?
Because I recognize his face.
He’s the same man I saw six years ago … the day they took my wife.
He hauled her away from my house.
I could crush the knife in my hand right now.
Instead, I tiptoe toward him, trying not to make a sound as I approach him from behind. The closer I get, the more rage spills into my body and makes this freezer feel like a goddamn volcano. But I’m keeping it together … until I’m right behind him and put my knife against his throat.
“Don’t. Move,” I hiss in his ear.
The man is utterly quiet, his lips almost sewn together as he trembles in place.
“Put the cup down,” I say.
He does what I ask, placing it on a table just inches away.
“Please don’t,” he pleads.
“Give me one good reason …” I hiss.
“I’ll do whatever you want,” he says.
“I don’t want you to do anything.” My blood feels like it’s boiling right now.
“You want money?” he asks.
“Shut up,” I say, pushing the blade further into his skin until I can feel drops of warm blood spill over my hand. “You know why I’m here.”
“No, I don’t,” he says.
“Listen to my voice … recognize it?” I murmur into his ear. “You’ve heard it before … roaring out loud the moment you took her … six years ago.”
Out of nowhere, he reaches for the knife and smashes my hand away from his throat, causing it to drop to the floor. He immediately turns and smacks me in the face, making me tumble backward.
“You should’ve stayed a fucking drunk,” Sergio growls, coming closer.
I adjust my jaw and wipe the blood from my lips then I retaliate with a fist to his stomach. However, he takes it like a pro, even laughing as my hand is still against his belly. “Think that’ll hurt me? I’ve felt much, much worse.”
Grunting, I swiftly elbow him in the chin, making him stumble backward.
“You took my fucking wife!” I scream, and I punch him in the nose. “You killed her!”
He laughs again as he takes a repeated beating to the face. “You think that’s all we did to her?”
“Shut up!” I scream.
We’re fighting like crazy dogs in a freezer filled with meat, and I’m a hundred percent sure one of us will end up on those racks.
Why?
Because I’m not walking away from here until he’s dead.
He punches me in the gut so hard I stumble backward.
“You should’ve heard her. ‘Frank, Frank, please help me.’” He imitates my wife’s voice in such a degrading way that I lose my shit.
I ram into him with my head and shove him all the way into the back of his office, slamming both of us into the wall. He coughs as he tumbles to the floor with me on top of him. My hands twist around his neck, and I squeeze as hard as I can.
“You took my family away from me!” I spit in his face.
When he’s almost blue, I release him and slap him hard. “Tell me where he is!”
“Who? Your son?” He laughs again, so I grab the knife lying on the floor and jam it into his cheek, piercing his mouth.
He screams as blood pours onto his tongue, and I pull out the knife and hold it to his throat again. “Tell me where Julio is,” I say. “I know he moved, so don’t give me that bullshit old address.”
He spits out the blood and smiles like an idiot. “Why did you come here, preacher?”
I pull the picture out of my pocket and show it to him. “One of your minions dropped this in my church. It wasn’t an accident.”
Sergio chuckles like a lunatic. “You should’ve stayed away from her, Jesus Boy!”
“Stayed away from Laura? No, that’s not why you and your pussy gang threatened me.” I shake my head. “This picture has nothing to do with it, and you still wanted me to see it. Why?”
“Yeah … to fuck with your head!” He spits blood in my face.
So I cut his arm and make him bleed as retribution.
“Motherfucker!” he squeals.
He tries to fight me off, but I push him down by sitting on top of him. “This is your last chance, asshole. Tell me exactly where Julio is or I’ll cut you again and again and again until you bleed to death.”
At first, his eyes glance toward a few papers on his desk, which makes me think he’s got the address hidden here somewhere.
But then he turns his head back to me and shows me his bloody teeth. “Fuck you!”
I shrug and sigh. “Suit yourself.”
I cut into his arms, his chest, and his legs, and then punch him in the gut so hard he gulps for air. More blood pours out from his skin, and he groans in pain. I let him loose and get up, and he vomits over the floor. Guess my punch was nauseating enough.
“Disgusting,” I murmur as I focus on the papers and search for the address.
I throw aside everything that doesn’t matter until I find what I’m looking for … Julio’s new home.
“He’ll kill you, you know,” he mutters, still coughing up blood.
I cock my head at his comment. “Not if I kill him first.”
His frown makes me smile.
But then more shit pours from his mouth. “Your kid cried so much … I wanted to strangle him in the car.”
“Keep your mouth shut, or I’ll cut out your tongue too,” I snarl, pointing the knife at him.
He laughs. “You think I’m scared of you? I live under Julio’s rule; there is nothing you can do to me that’ll make me fear you more than I do him.”
“Maybe you should’ve chosen a different path then,” I say. “Just like I did when you took my family away from me.”
“God won’t save us,” he spits. “You think He cares about any of us?”
“He cares enough to give me my spirit to fight you and your pussy gang,” I reply.
“Ha … he should’ve given you the spirit to run faster when your lady and your kid were being dragged away.”
“What did you say?” My eye begins to twitch, and my grip on the knife grows stronger again.
“You heard me.” He coughs. “You could’ve saved them if only you were faster. But you didn’t. And now they’re dead because of you.”
I rush to him and grab him by the collar while pointing the knife at him. “Say that again; I dare you.”
He smiles as he slyly whispers, “Did you know we made your boy listen to her scream as we took her, one by one?”
That’s it.
I roar as I shove the knife into his hand.
He squeals out loud, the sound only interrupted by choking noises as I drag him along his collar back into the freezer. While he squirms on the floor, I lift him up and push him … straight into a hook hanging from the wall.
More blood comes from his mouth, and he yowls in pain as I pull the chains so his body rises from the ground. Then I take my knife from his hand and jam it into his chest, sliding it down toward his belly, so he bleeds out com
pletely.
It won’t kill him right away, though.
No, his death will be slow and agonizing; he’ll slowly bleed out in a cold frozen void between the pigs where no one will ever hear him scream.
19
Covered in blood, I step out of my car in the middle of the night and stumble into the church. My limbs feel heavy, and my heart is burdened with yet another murder. But I don’t regret a thing.
That motherfucker had it coming for him.
I push the doors open and slide inside. Luckily, no one’s inside. At least, not from what I can see.
Rubbing my forehead, I make my way to the altar, wiping away the blood from my face when I see the statue in front of me. There, I fall to my knees and make the sign of the cross on my chest.
“God … please forgive me for my sins,” I murmur, and I grab the cross hanging from my neck and press a kiss to it.
Blood drips down to the floor as I let out a sigh and stare up at His image, welcoming His judgment. I know full well what I did … that I committed a heinous crime. But if God will not punish those responsible for my misery, then I will hand out the pain.
Suddenly, I feel something on my shoulder. In a moment of fear, I pull my knife and almost lash out.
I barely manage to stop myself from slicing Laura.
I stare into her eyes as the knife drops to the floor.
Oh, God. Oh, fuck.
I almost hurt her.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter.
She smashes her lips together and shakes her head. I wonder if she’ll run. If she’s afraid of me. She should be.
I’m covered in the blood of my enemies.
I still feel like an animal after killing the gang member working for her dad.
She knows he and I have business now … and she’s in the middle of it all.
Still, she stays, unmoving, the look on her face as certain as it’s always been.
But I can’t look her in the eyes the same way I could before. My gaze falls to her feet as the thought crosses my mind that I could use her as leverage. But I could never risk her life.
I couldn’t even touch her like that.
The moment the knife almost cut her … I haven’t experienced terror like that in ages. A feeling I haven’t felt in years. The last time was when …
I shake my head and rub my lips together. The metallic taste of blood enters my mouth, reminding me of my sins.
“I killed someone,” I mutter as my eyes slowly rise until they meet hers, which shine with endless compassion, and the guilt rushes through my veins.
She swallows, visibly constrained. “I can tell.”
I look at my arms and hands. I look like I’ve bathed in blood.
She drops to her knees right in front of me and tilts my chin up. “You don’t have to tell me anything. God is the only one who can judge us.”
I nod, and she puts her shoulder under my arm, helping me up.
I groan as pain shoots through my stomach, probably from my fight with Sergio.
“Are you hurt?” she asks, wrapping her hand around my waist.
“No, I’m okay,” I say. “It’s only a few bruises. No big deal.”
She helps me to my room, but when I glance over my shoulder and see the trail of blood behind me, I say, “I’ll have to clean that up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she says, guiding me inside. “I’ll do it.”
She turns on the faucet and wets two cloths, handing one to me. “Clean yourself up a little. I’ll be right back.” She leaves with the other wet cloth, probably to clean up the mess I made.
While she’s gone, I take off the ring around my finger and place it by the sink. Then I look at myself in the mirror, disgusted with what I see. I wipe away what I can, but the cloth is quickly drenched in blood, and adding water doesn’t help one bit.
When she comes back, I glance over my shoulder right when she turns on the light.
She stops in her tracks, clearing her throat as she focuses her gaze on me. Then she closes the door. The way the left side of her lip quirks up makes me suddenly aware of the fact that we’re alone. As she approaches me, I grasp the sink, worried that I might hurt her. I’m still tormented by my own need to inflict pain on those who did me wrong, and for some reason, it’s hard to distinguish friend from foe.
She carefully peels my bloody fingers loose and pulls me along with her into the shower. She turns it on, and warm water pours down on my clothes and skin. Blood mixes with the water, creating an eerie color, but she doesn’t seem fazed.
Instead, she only comes closer, running her fingers through my dirty hair, cupping my face. Testosterone is still raging through my body, and my hormones go on full tilt the moment she rips open my shirt and pushes it off my arms.
I love feeling her hands on my muscles. What can I say? Underneath this rugged beast is still a man made of flesh … and his flesh is getting stiff as a board.
With a firm hand, she tugs on my belt, pulling me closer as she pulls it out of the loops. I watch her, meticulously licking my lips as she throws the belt away and unbuttons my pants. In one go, she pulls down both my pants and boxer shorts, leaving me naked and with a rock-hard dick.
One quick glance and she’s grinning.
Of course, she is.
I smile, shaking my head, which is still covered in blood.
This is really fucked up.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, unsure how to respond to her warmth.
“I’ve seen men like you before,” she says.
“What … covered in blood?” I reply. “Or with a raging hard-on?”
She smiles. “Both.”
I raise a brow. “At the same time?”
Her smile broadens. “That’s a first.”
Laughing, I close my eyes and let the water pour onto my face, washing away the blood with my hands. Her hands wrap around my neck, and her head leans on my shoulder, her tits pushing against my chest.
“I’m glad you came back,” she whispers in my ear.
Goose bumps scatter on my skin as I look down into her pristine eyes, and at that moment, I realize I’m starting to fall in love with the daughter of my enemy.
God, I’m so fucking screwed.
She leans away and grabs my hand, placing it on her soaked blouse. She guides my hand across her tit, and my cock responds with a bounce. As she bites her lip, she pushes my hand further down until it’s between her legs, where she squeezes tight.
That’s it.
I’ve tried to fight temptation, but with her standing here in my shower and her clothes completely soaked, it’s impossible.
And as I’m overtaken by lust, I grab her waist and push her against the wall, smothering her mouth with mine.
I don’t care what anyone thinks or what I should think.
She’s mine, and nobody will take her away from me.
Not even my own need for revenge.
My tongue flicks along her lips, eager to take her right here and now. Arousal courses through my veins, a remnant of the power I felt mere minutes ago when I murdered one of my most hated enemies. And now, I’m taking it all out on her.
When she raises her hand, I grab her wrist and pin it to the wall. I nudge her legs apart and make her feel the hard-on she caused. She doesn’t seem to mind as she grins against my lips.
I use the opportunity to take her mouth with my tongue, swiveling around hers. I want her so badly; I can’t control my urges anymore. She tastes so damn good; it’s like a drug to me.
My hands travel down to her tits, and I pinch her nipples, rolling them around between my fingers. She moans into my mouth, and my dick pulses against her pussy with greed.
I swiftly spin her around and shove my hand between her legs, lifting her skirt and claiming her.
“You’re mine and no one else’s …” I growl, pulling her panties aside and rubbing her clit.
“I don’t want anyone else,” she murmurs, parting her legs for me.
I slide my fingers up and down her slit to enjoy the wetness, and I press a kiss to the nape of her neck. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page.”
She snorts and tilts her head back, allowing me to nibble on her earlobe. “I’m still mad at you, you know …”
“I know. I chased you away. So let me make it up to you,” I whisper, sucking on her skin.
She bites her lip as I bury my finger into her pussy.
“Fuck …” she mutters.
“Oh, I’ll fuck you all right,” I groan. “I wanna feel you come like the good little sinful girl you are.”
“Are you calling me a little girl?” she retorts.
“Would you prefer good little whore?” I muse. “Because, either way, you’re fucking mine.”
She grins as I circle her clit. “I’ll take either … just keep doing that.”
“Oh, I will …” I groan, licking my lips as her clit engorges from my touch. “I’ll make this pussy come so hard that you’ll beg this preacher to impale you.”
“Who’s being the whore now?” she quips.
I shove her against the wall, and she gasps from the coldness against her nipples. Then I push my hand between her thighs and prop my dick between her ass cheeks.
“You ready for me, babe?”
“Fuck, yes …” she moans at the same time I push the tip in.
In one go, I push in completely, burying my cock deep inside her. She holds her breath as I pull out, and when I thrust in again, another loud moan comes from her mouth. I cup her pussy with one hand while fucking her, and with my other hand, I form a knot in her hair and twist, pulling her head back.
“Fuck,” she hisses, almost like she can’t handle me.
“Shouldn’t have come into the shower with me,” I growl. “Now you’ll feel my rage.”
“Rage?”
“You think I come off killing people easily?” I mutter, banging her hard. “Fuck no.”
I ram into her again, this time putting every inch of myself inside her until I hear her squeal. “Come,” I growl. “Milk me.”
I spank her ass and use her waist as handles as I thrust into her. As I flick her clit, her legs wobble, and she can barely stay upright. I hold her in place as she tiptoes around my large cock, barely able to keep up.
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