Page 155 of Making Choices

“Yeah.”

If I told you that it didn’t feel weird to be in Hades’ specially built bunker without Venom, you’d be correct in calling me a liar. Not that I’d ever admit that out loud, even with a gun to my head. The dents he’s caused to my pride have nothing on the cracks he’s gouged out of my heart. There isn’t a part of me, mentally, physically, and emotionally, that Venom hasn’t scarred with his antics.

He didn’t just shatter Cherub when he left.

He destroyed my faith in him.

When that knowledge tries to weaken my resolve to do this alone, I draw on the anger that’s been stalking me since the moment I realised that the raid on the compound was a ruse to distract us so Alex could get his hands on my duchess again. It takes me a second, but my innate bloodthirstiness takes hold and my hand twitches with the phantom weight of my favourite scalpel.

In my rush to stop Toker from falling over, I forgot to grab my personal kit from my pannier. I should head back up to the surface to retrieve it, but I can’t bring myself to engage with Venom again. If he says the wrong thing, I’m liable to turn a scalpel on him.

Maybe making him bleed will lessen my anger?

Somehow, I doubt it.

The crazy fucker would probably enjoy it.

“Well, well, well,” I drawl as I circle Bear. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

The dirty rat is naked.

Strung up by his wrists from a chain attached to the roof.

Bloody from head to toe.

Missing teeth.

Devoid of ears.

In possession of three fingers and a bloody stump of a thumb.

Avoiding the pool of blood that’s steadily running down the drain beneath the dying man, I head over to the stainless-steel benches. Venom’s already made good use of our usual tool kit. As the SAA, I should be pissed off that the VP’s encroached on my turf once again, but it’s become such a habit of his that I’m not sure it’s worth my time to register the insult.

Venom does what Venom wants, and everyone else is expected to deal with it.

“So, you blubberin’ rat bastard, I’m here to gather a recap of the information you’ve provided.” After shedding my cut and retying my hair at my crown, I look through the blades. One at a time, I test their sharpness against my calloused thumb. When I’m happy with the one I’ve chosen, I wander back over to Bear. “Gotta make sure you haven’t forgotten any pertinent details.”

“I—I… I told… Venom everythin’…”

“Hmmm,” I murmur, angling my head to the side as I scan his face. “You sound uncertain.”

“N-n-n-n-no… I’m not. Please… Slash. Just finish me.”

“You know what, Bear.” I jerk the chain. He cries out as the movement makes his injuries bleed faster. The sticky liquid that sustains his life runs from what’s left of his big toe in a continual stream. It’s a deep red, almost black colour, which doesn’t bode well for the time left to question with him. “There’s one thing I hate more than a rat, and that’s a pathetic prick who can’t face the repercussions of his sins without beggin’ like a bitch.” I trail the sharp edge of the blade along his jaw. When I reach his carotid, I stop. “I could end it all now, but I’m not gonna.”

“Wh-why?”

“Because I wanna know why you did it.”

“Did it?”

“Yeah. Why’d you sell out your brothers for Brutus?”

“Dumb fucker.” Bear jerks like I’ve slapped him when I dig the end of the blade into his skin. “Wasn’t… wasn’t for him.”

I allow the blade to nick his neck a second time and he blubbers with relief as he tries to lean into the sharp point to end his suffering. “Who was it for then?”

“My family.”

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