by Marni Mann
“Fucking liquor bowls.” I laughed.
Arin bent her fingers and intertwined them with mine.
“Surprised a break left a scar like that,” my father said.
My head moved straight to look at him, and I said, “Ended up getting surgery; that’s what left the scar.”
“What did you think it came from?” Arin asked him.
“Don’t know. Maybe you like to cut him when you ride his cock.” My father’s attention shifted again, and this time, it was on Arin. “He’s half of me. I’d expect him to like it real fucking rough.”
I wasn’t sure where this conversation was going and how it had happened in the first place, but when I tried to stop it, Arin said, “Your son isn’t into tongue-splitting or hooks and wires or having me bite my initials into his flesh. So, I’d say he’s a little more on the tamer side.”
Shank said nothing.
I was silent as hell, too, still unsure of how we’d started talking about sex in the first place. It was a topic I didn’t want to discuss in front of him, and I certainly didn’t want to hear any more about the men he’d been with. I’d read enough of that in his letters.
While I was thinking of something to say, I watched my father continue to glare at her.
Then, he suddenly stood from the table and said, “Can I talk to you, kid?”
“Now?”
“Right fucking now.” His voice was sharp. “Follow me.”
Once he stepped away from the table, I leaned into Arin’s cheek and kissed her. “Will you be okay if I leave you here for a minute?”
She nodded. “I’m fine; don’t worry.”
“I’ll be right back.” I met my father outside. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t like her.” He paced between the van and the door, his eyes frantic, his hands moving as fast as his feet.
“Who don’t you like?”
“Arin.”
“You don’t like Arin?” I couldn’t fucking believe what I was hearing. “You don’t have to like her. But she’s my girlfriend, and you will respect her.”
He walked back to the van and paused in front of me during his return. “She’s no fucking good, kid. Get rid of her right now.”
“Have you fucking lost your mind? You think I’d get rid of my girlfriend for you?” My voice was rising, and I didn’t care. I was pissed, furious that he’d taken me out here to talk about Arin, that he wanted me to dump her, that he was even focused on her in the first place.
“She’s no good.” His hands dropped to his sides, his fingers now clenching. “Don’t you know better than that, kid? I’m surprised by you.”
“Surprised? What are you surprised about?”
“For starters, she knew about your wrist, and you never told her.”
I sighed, shaking my goddamn head. “I’m sure I told her. I was drunk. I don’t remember much from that night. Plus, there’s a picture of me in my living room where I’m wearing the cast. I’m sure Arin saw it.”
“How much have you told her about Toy? Does she know about all his scars?”
“His scars?” I repeated. “What would give you that impression? She never said anything to you about Toy’s scars.”
“Jesus, kid.” His stare intensified to where I could feel it in my fucking chest. “I’m telling you one last time. Get rid of her.”
I ground my teeth together. “Fuck that, and fuck you.”
“Fuck me?” Shank laughed, a lightness now passing over his face. “Don’t you know you shouldn’t talk to your father that way? I’m only trying to save your ass.”
“I don’t need to be saved.”
“Kid—”
“Listen to me,” I growled. “You never liked anyone who took attention away from you. You hated Beard’s mother and my mother for that reason. Diego probably didn’t dare to bring anyone around you for fear that you’d kill them.” I brought my voice down, but I made sure he knew how serious I was. “There’s nothing wrong with Arin. She’s who I care about, and things are real good between us. If you don’t want to be around her, then I’ll change our tickets, and we’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
He said nothing. He just continued to stare at me.
And then, slowly, he smiled, showing me his mouth full of black.
His hands stopped fidgeting. His feet were still.
“Don’t change your flight,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go eat, kid.”
Shank
It had been too long since I tasted blood.
Not the kind that I’d gotten from the guard in prison when I sliced across his fucking palm. I meant, blood that was drained from a body. Blood that I could coat all over my skin and not miss a goddamn spot. Blood that I could come in.
Blood that dripped from someone who feared me.
That kind of blood was the sweetest.
And, right now, blood was more important than finding someone to fuck.
The hotel the kid had booked was in the middle of town. It was fancy. It smelled all clean and the bed was soft and the blanket didn’t scratch me.
I couldn’t sleep.
It made my mind wander.
The room was an all right place to stay in, but it wasn’t right for killing. Besides, I couldn’t murder while the kid was in the room next to mine.
So, I got out of bed, and a few blocks away, I found a car to jack. The motherfucker had left his wallet in the glove compartment, and there was plenty of cash inside. Now, I had what I needed.
I remembered there being a motel near the prison that was perfect for this, so that was where I headed to first. When I went up to the window to tell the guy what I wanted, I asked for two rooms beside each other at the very end of the hall.
He handed me two keys, and then I left to go shopping. I’d never done that in Venezuela before. I would always send a sweeper if I needed something for my OR. But, God, I wished I had because it was so much fun to walk into a hardware store and pick out everything I wanted to play with.
I found a grinder that would cut through bone and picks that would tear apart flesh.
There were so many more options now that I filled my entire cart.
And, fuck, my dick was so goddamn hard as I stared at all my new shiny metal blades.
Soon, I’d be getting a release.
Real fucking soon.
But not quite yet.
I brought it all back to the motel room and set everything up. It had been so long since I did this, but it was like riding a bike.
I shut the blinds and covered the floor and the bed with thick sheets of plastic. Then, I set out all the tools, aligning them from weakest to strongest, depending how rough it was on the body. Once it was all organized and ready to be used, I got back in my car and drove.
It was fucking hunting time.
It didn’t take me long to find my prey.
My target was a woman. She was medium height, thin, dressed in workout clothes with her hair in a ponytail and her ass shaking as she ran.
She had no idea this would be her last day alive.
I couldn’t have timed this more perfectly.
I drove several blocks ahead of her and parked near the sidewalk in between a bush and another car, and I secretly watched her get closer. As she reached the first branch, I jumped out and grabbed her, slapping my hand over her mouth before she had the chance to scream.
“Shut the fuck up,” I warned. “This will go a lot easier on you if you don’t make a sound.”
I replaced my hand with a rag that I stuffed into her mouth, and I sealed it with duct tape.
She winced when I tied the rope around her hands, which were now behind her back, and again when I threw her into the passenger seat. I ducked down and tied her feet together, and I used the seat belt to lock her in place.
Her nostrils flared as she tried to suck in air. Tears welled in her eyes. Redness filled her sweet face.
None of that would help her now.
I shut her doo
r and got into the driver’s side, and then I began heading toward my motel.
“Stop making sounds,” I barked.
Her breathing and her crying were getting under my fucking skin.
“I like silence. The louder you are, the more I will hurt you.”
There was one more cry, and then she turned quiet.
“That’s a good girl.”
When we reached the hotel, I made sure no one was outside to see us, and then I carried her in. I set her on top of the plastic, and I picked up one of the knives.
I pointed it at the base of her throat. “This thing? That’s what’s making you cry harder?” I looked from her to the knife and back. “This is the least painful toy I bought, so don’t let this eight-inch blade scare you. It’s not as mean as it appears.”
I laughed as I stabbed the knife into the top of her shirt and dragged it down the center. The shirt split in half, and I pulled it off her body. I did the same with her tight pants. The whore wasn’t even wearing panties, so I didn’t have to cut those off. When I got to her bra, a cell phone fell out from between her tits. It wasn’t like anything we’d had back before I was incarcerated. This was large and rectangular, and it lit up as it hit the ground.
I carried her things into the bathroom and dumped them into a trash bag, and I returned to her.
Jesus, if I liked cunt, I would have buried myself inside hers. But there was nothing about those two hairless folds that did anything for me. I was more turned on by the knife in my hand.
By the thought of her blood.
By knowing I was just hours away from coming in the center of a beautiful, large red pool.
As I straddled her waist, her ice-blue eyes were so fucking wide and dripping. I wondered what her tears would taste like, so I leaned down and swiped my tongue over her cheek. It was salty, not metallic, like I wanted.
Fuck, I can’t wait to taste her blood.
I stayed where I was, so she could hear me, so she could feel me on top of her, so she could smell me. “Since I don’t have a playground anymore, I needed to improvise. I apologize, princess. This room isn’t nearly as fun as my operating room was, but I promise, we’ll still have a good time.”
I lifted one of the picks, and I hooked it under her belly button and tugged on it. I’d been told the pressure went all the way to a woman’s cunt. I could tell by the sounds she made that she was feeling that pressure right now.
“We’re going to take things slow, painfully slow, and you’re going to fucking suffer. When it’s all over, when I’ve decided you’ve had enough, I’m going to kill you.” I moved my mouth to the side of her face and hauled it across to her ear. “Do you know why I’m doing this?”
I knew she couldn’t answer, but I still paused, so she could think about it.
“Because I don’t fucking trust you. I think you’re up to something. And, by the time I’m done torturing you, I’m going to know exactly what you’re hiding from me, Arin.”
Huck
When I woke up, the room was dark. There were blinds over the windows, and they were drawn, so none of them let any light in. I blinked several times, trying to figure out why nothing looked familiar, and then it came to me. I was in Venezuela, visiting my father, and this was the hotel room I’d rented.
I rolled to my side and reached across the bed but felt nothing, except for cold sheets.
Arin wasn’t there.
I went to my other side and tapped different parts of the lamp until I found a knob and twisted it, and then the light turned on.
Arin wasn’t on the couch. She wasn’t in the closet that was right next to the bed either.
“Arin,” I called out, knowing she had to be in the bathroom. “I’m coming in. I’ve gotta take a piss.”
I rounded the corner. The bathroom door was open, and the light was turned off. When I looked inside, she wasn’t in there.
What the fuck?
I did a quick scan of the whole room, and that was when I saw the note on the table that was written in Arin’s handwriting.
Went for a run.
Be back in an hour.
XX, A
Has this girl lost her goddamn mind?
She’d never been to Venezuela before. She had no fucking idea where she was running to or who she could be running from.
This area was filled with crime.
It wasn’t safe.
It sure as hell wasn’t the type of place where a girl should be alone on the road and unarmed.
I went into the bathroom, and while I took a piss, I pulled up an app on my phone. It was to track Arin’s cell. I’d never disabled it. That wasn’t because I didn’t trust her; it was because I was worried that something would happen during one of her walks, and I would need to find her.
As her location loaded, I flushed the toilet and walked back to the bed. When the full dot appeared and it blinked on the screen, telling me her phone was active and turned on, I pressed the map, and it showed her distance.
She was almost nine kilometers away.
I did it again, not believing the measurement.
It gave me the same number the second time.
Arin hadn’t run more than a kilometer and a half since she healed. She was still building her stamina back up.
So, would she be going for an eighteen-kilometer run today?
No fucking way.
I continued to stare at the dot, and it didn’t move. I refreshed the app, and nothing happened then either.
Something wasn’t right.
I threw on my clothes, grabbed a room key, and headed for the door. When I got to the van, I peeled out of the parking spot and drove straight toward her.
There weren’t many people on the road. There also weren’t a lot of traffic lights. I didn’t even know what the speed limit was. I didn’t fucking care. I pressed the gas pedal to the floor and swerved around each turn. The directions took me to a motel.
As soon as I saw the place, my stomach fucking sank.
There was no reason for her to be here.
Someone had to have brought her here.
I got out of the van and let the blinking dot lead me.
It took me to the other side of the motel to the very last room.
I had nothing to protect myself. No weapon. Just my fists, boots, and my goddamn mouth.
I didn’t knock.
Fuck that.
I aimed the tip of my boot toward the center of the door, and I kicked that motherfucker open.
The light from behind me filtered inside, and it lit up the scene in front of me.
A scene that didn’t just send the tip of a knife into the back of my throat. It sent one into my stomach and another into my chest and a fourth right into my fucking balls.
My father.
My goddamn fucking father.
His profile faced me while he huddled in front of a body that was on the floor. Plastic was beneath them. Blood was all over his hands.
The body was naked.
It was a girl.
My girl.
A body I had worshipped every part of, using my tongue, my hands, my beard, my cock.
My heart.
He was holding something against her skin.
My fucking skin.
He was pulling it down her stomach, and more blood came to the surface.
My fucking blood.
He stopped, as though he’d reached a good place to pause, and he looked at me. “Kid—”
“Get your fucking hands off her,” I growled.
His gaze returned to Arin. “Sorry, kid. I can’t do that.” Whatever he was holding, he now lifted it into the air, and he stuck it into Arin’s arm.
Something was covering her mouth, so all she could do was moan. Her head shook back and forth, her whole body quivering, tears streaming down her bloody cheeks.
I rushed up behind him, took the tool out of his hand, and threw it across the room. I wrapped my arm underneath his chin. “What the fuck are y
ou doing?”
His fingers went to my forearm, and he tried to pull it away. I didn’t feel it or the way his nails were stabbing me. Adrenaline had completely taken over my body. All I saw was blood, and I had to get him the hell away from her.
“I told you, she’s not good for you—”
“So, you were just going to kill her?” I snapped. “Because you don’t think she’s good for me? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I lifted him as I stood, yanking him higher until his back was pressed against my chest. That only gave me more power to hold him with.
“I’m saving you, kid. The same way I saved Beard.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He was justifying his actions and trying to make me believe that this was what I needed.
Now, I saw who he really was.
Delusional.
Narcissistic.
Everything I had ever thought of him was true.
The man never thought he did anything wrong.
He thought he was a hero.
And he hadn’t just done this to his father and his best friend.
Now, he was doing it to his own son.
This man was fucking toxic, a cancer that destroyed anything good that was near him. He should have died in that explosion or in the prison that had just spit him out.
I tightened my grip, and I heard him wheeze.
“You’re not saving me,” I told him. “You’re taking away someone I love. How the hell do you not see that?”
“You don’t understand, kid. That girl—”
“Shut the fuck up! I don’t ever want to hear you say another word.” I carried him to the other side of the room, his feet dragging, his hands clawing at my arms to release him.
But I couldn’t let go.
I had to squeeze harder.
I had to make sure he never got near Arin again.
“Arin!” I yelled. “Move for me, baby, so I know you’re okay.”
“Mmm,” she moaned back, her fingers rising as high as the ropes would allow.
“You’re not strong enough to do this,” he rasped. “You’re too soft, just like Beard. You won’t be able to live with yourself after.” He tried taking a breath, and it sounded like a cough. “Your letters showed me you’re nothing but a pussy.”