Page 75 of Our Blood, Our Pain

“Oh, so you were there too?”

“No.”

“Hmmm, you see, I think you’re a dirty little liar. I know you’ve been watching his mom for weeks. But what I want to know is why you were watching her? Luckily for you, I know ways to make someone talk.”

His breathing hitches, anticipation of the unknown must be tearing him apart inside.

“Ivan, hold his hand out.”

Ivan stretches his arm out and firmly grips his wrist.

“What! I don’t know anything man, please,” he whines, trying to pull away.

“Did Kai beg you to stop?”

“Don’t do this,” he says, trying to portray a softness I know fuckers like this don’t possess.

I move over to his outstretched hand and grab his little finger, pulling it backwards as slow as I can. Zac starts to yell, trying to move his hand.

“I’ll stop if you tell me, or I will break each and every finger.”

“Stop.”

“No. Where’s your brother?”

“Don’t hurt him. We can sort this out between us,” he says, begging.

I pull back hard on his finger. Just a little more pressure, if I put my weight into it, it should break.

“Ahhh! Stop! Fuck! It was me, okay, it was me and nothing to do with Jez.”

“Do you know how embarrassing it is that you gave in so fast? You really are pathetic.”

“Who cares about Kai! He’s dead and nobody will miss him,” he shouts, the pain overtaking sense.

I grab him by his dirty, ugly face.

“I care. You put your hands on my man, and I won’t let you get away with that. Also, when you plan to kill someone, always check that they’re dead first before you run. Kai is very much alive.”

“What?”

“Do you still have the knife?”

“Fuck you! You don’t have shit on me to prove it.”

Suddenly I can hear Kai’s voice, the message he left me replaying in my mind.

“Jules…I–I-I’ve been s-s-stabbed. L-l-l-love you, i-it h-hurts,”

All I can see is him bleeding out alone on his mom’s floor. That this fucker nearly killed him. The message replays over and over and I want to yell out to stop it. I need to keep focus, but I’m lost in the wave of emotion and what’s happened. Anger. Hate. Fury. Blood. Before I know it, I have both hands wrapped around Zac’s throat, like the jaws of a dog, they lock in place. The wheezing sounds coming from this asshole thrill me. I love the feeling of his neck in my hands, that he’s so vulnerable, I could snap his neck like a twig.

“Jules! Let him go. Not here. Fuck!”

The door flies open and a surfer looking dude with long brown hair storms in, which pulls me out of the place I was just locked in.

“Jez?” Ivan asks.

Jez looks at his brother, who is now unconscious but still breathing on the floor, then moves his beady eyes over to the three of us.

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