Page 134 of My Damaged Protector

The moment his eyes land on me, he starts to stand up, but he's unable to. Slowly his eyes trail away from me to his body where he finds himself tied a thousand ways to a chair.

“Fuck,” he cusses.

“Yeah, fuck,” I mock.

Recapping the water, I toss it on the floor and start to bring out the tools I brought, and the ones I took from the station. His eyes follow my every movement.

I pick the ax first, scrape it on the floor, and let it draw out a menacing sound through the air.

“What are you doing?” he asks, looking at me like I'm crazy.

I do feel crazy, so maybe he's not so wrong.

“Just testing to see which part of your body this will chop off fast enough.”

“What?” he barks, and then starts to struggle against the restraints. “You can't do that! You can't do anything to me! Do you know who I am? I will kill you once I get out of these ropes.”

Although he's the one screaming threats, he looks about ready to piss his pants. It's so hilarious I can't help the laugh that leaves my mouth.

He stops struggling and looks at me with renewed fear.

“You're not joking,” he states.

I shrug.

I am. But he doesn't need to know that. There's no way I'm removing anything from his body without landing in jail. And since I'm not looking to go to jail forever, I should get back to scaring the shit out of him. Enough to get him to back off Sarah, at least. It won't be easy, but I'm ready for anything.

Dropping the ax, I pick up the chainsaw and then drop it, deciding to go for something less threatening. If I rush this, it may fail. But if I go slow, it'll make more of an impact.

I hold the pliers in my hand and walk toward him.

“Stay back.” He protests with every step I take toward him. By the time I'm in front of him, he's dropped more than a liter of sweat.

We're getting somewhere.

Pressing the pliers by the handle, I open the mouth and pick one of his hands, acting as though I'm going to clip his nails off. He starts to struggle against me, screaming while he’s at it.

“Quiet,” I command in a deadly tone.

“Please, we can work this out,” he begs in a little voice.

So, he can get scared?

Good.

“No, we can't. You've been coming after someone I care about for a while now, and I've let it slide because I thought you'd be smart enough to know not to mess with me. But clearly not, so I'm just going to make you learn the hard way. Although, I'm not so sure you'll be able to implement the lessons you learn here today.”

“No!” he screams. “I swear to God, I'll leave her alone. I don't care if my dad dies. Just let me go! Please.”

Is it funny that I am disappointed at how easily he's cowering?

Isn't this the man with many restraining orders against him? How was he ever able to bully people if he can't take some bullying of his own?

Maybe he's just putting on an act to make me go easy on him. Or maybe he's not. Regardless, I'm not stopping until I'm convinced he's going to be running whenever he so much as hears Sarah's name.

“I don't think that's enough, Peter. I gave you many chances, and you blew it. Now I'm just done. I want you dead, and I'm going to take my time to enjoy it.”

“Oh God, no. Please, no.” He weeps like a child.

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