Page 107 of Judge's Mercy

“Right. Smart.” Sliding it off, I leave it on the stairs around the corner to avoid splatter. I pull the Glock out of the back of my pants and aim. David blubbers more threats, his eyes wide with fear as he tries to jerk free of the chains. Grinning, I fire. The 9mm bullet sails right through his bicep, making him squeal like a pig. I’ve never heard a more beautiful sound.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” I stroll around him in a circle, tsking. “You’re gonna need open wound care. Do you have any idea what that means? No? Well, let me tell you. You have to wash it out every single day with soap and water. It hurts like a motherfucker, but even more than that, you get a full view of the inside of your arm twice a day. It’s disgusting.”

“I’m sorry, okay? You were the one who came after me. I was just reacting. I didn’t even know who you were.”

“You’re not here because of what you did to me. I’m perfectly fuckin’ fine.” My manic tone proves otherwise, but I’m almost, almost fine, and I’ll be closer to it once this asshole is dead. “You’re here because of what you did to all those girls. The ones you sold, the ones whose teeth you pulled, the ones you made dress up like little girls so you could get your rocks off, all while spoon-feeding them drugs.”

“If you kill me, I can’t shut it down, and it’ll just keep going.”

I glance at Riot, who’s picking at his nails with a knife the size of my forearm. “There’s around twelve cop cars and three ambulances parked out front of the house right now that say otherwise.”

David’s eyes screw shut as he confronts his inevitable fate. His jaw clenches so tightly, his teeth grind against each other, emitting a bone-chilling sound. When his eyes open once more, his expression is a twisted mask of despair and acceptance. That won’t do. I want pure terror etched into every line of his face. I want him to beg and plead for mercy.

“You look overdressed.” I grab the collar of his shirt and rip it open, buttons popping in all directions. With a quick tug, I work his belt off and undo his pants. He releases a pathetic whine as they pool at his feet, and my face screws up in disgust. “Don’t worry. I’m not happy about this either.”

One more layer to go, I stalk behind him and slice through one side of his boxers with my sharp blade. They drop to the ground, revealing a flat, white ass. Anticipation courses through me as I think of how I want this to end.

“Gloves?” I ask Riot.

The man looks almost bored, his shoulder against the wall and his ankles crossed. “Top drawer.”

Pushing my hands into the blue latex, I once again reach for the knife and meet the eyes of my tormentor as I take his cock and balls in hand. Despite the situation, his disgusting dick twitches at the contact. “How many times have you used this thing to harm girls? A hundred? More?”

With his most vulnerable asset in my palm, his hips swivel in an attempt to get free, but he can’t get far because one wrong move, and he won’t have the bricks to hold him up. I’m fine with that, but I doubt David wants to hang painfully from his wrists.

I tighten my grip around his junk, and he freezes. “Answer me. How many?”

“I don’t know, okay? Why the hell do you even care? The girls I took wanted to be there because as bad as you think they had it, they had it worse without me. Besides, they’re throw-away human beings, nothing more than a drain on society.”

I don’t bother arguing with him on that last point. There’s nothing I can say that’ll change his mind, so even though I want to rant and rave, my energy is better spent torturing him. “Let’s go with a hundred. I’m sure it’s a low number, but I’m being generous. Isn’t that nice of me?”

“What are you going to do?” he asks.

“Count with me, will you?” I slice the top of his cock, just enough to cause pain, not to cut it off. Not yet. “One.”

He doesn’t count, but I didn’t really expect him to, and for the next thirty minutes, I get a small act of revenge for each of his victims. By the time I’m done, his genitals are a bloody mess. I ran out of room after slicing the top, bottom, and sides of his cock, so I moved to his balls. When I ran out of room there, I moved to his inner thighs. Turns out, one hundred cuts take up a lot of space. David whined and cried the whole time, pleading for me to stop, but I showed him the same mercy he showed me—none.

“You’re a sick, sadistic bitch,” he pants out.

I shrug. “Accurate.”

“I hate to interrupt here, and I’m all for a long, painful death, but if I have to stare at this asshole’s dick much longer, I’m gonna get irritated. And no one wants that,” Riot says.

“Then leave.” I shoo him away with my bloody, gloved hand.

His eyes darken to black, and his shoulders lift. He looks like a rabid beast, ready to attack. I wish I hadn’t said that, but it’s out there, so I lift my head high in indignation. We have a stare-off while David squirms and cries, neither of us backing down.

I nearly give in when Riot takes two menacing steps toward me. I’m sure if I was a normal height, he’d be in my face, but it’s not as effective to bend over when reading someone the riot act. “The fuckin’ goal is to get all these motherfuckers dead. I didn’t agree to spend my nights watching you slice these assholes to bits.”

“He threw me down a flight of stairs, then shot me and locked me in a basement with other drugged girls. I was naked, bleeding, and in pain. That didn’t stop them from dragging me upstairs to take pictures of my tits and cunt to show potential buyers,” I say through gritted teeth. “He was going to sell me and all but promised that whoever bought me would torture me until my body gave up then kill me.”

The furrow on Riot’s brow deepens, and I see a flicker of something there. It isn’t pity or understanding. No, it’s something else. Guilt, maybe? But why?

“Just get it done.”

“I will, but he’s not done suffering.” Taking the knife, I slice him from shoulder to shoulder, going deep enough to hurt like a bitch, but again, not deep enough to kill. “That’s for pushing me down the stairs.” My next cut is across his abdomen, and this time, I do go a little too far because some of his guts leak out, along with a hefty amount of blood. “That was for shooting me.”

“Fuuuuck,” David howls and it’s music to my ears.

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