Page 76 of Ours to Keep

“You know I’m a firm believer in karma,” I say, my voice cold. “And it just so happens I’m here to help ensure you receive it.”

I press the cigar to his cheek and hold it there. He writhes under my hold and screams like a pussy. The more he struggles, the more my blade slices into his skin. I’m close enough to be hit with the smell of burning flesh. It’s so thick and rich that I swear I can almost taste it.

Pulling it away, I toss it back into the ashtray and study my handiwork.

Richard heaves, his hand flying to his cheek. “You burnt me,” he cries out.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?”

I release him, and he falls backwards and lands on the sofa behind him, his complexion taking on a green hue and his face flushed.

“Now, I can keep this up all night and add a few more of those to the collection. It’s the least you deserve after what you did to Lily.”

There’s a glimmer of recognition in Richards’s expression. I pull off my balaclava and glare at him.

“That’s right, motherfucker. Did you think you could hurt Lily and get away with it?”

The sound of movement behind me makes me glance over my shoulder, and I watch as Jax and Elliot pull theirs off.

There’s no point in any pretence now. Besides, I want him to know it’s us.

“What’s the matter? You got nothing to say?” Jax asks as he stands beside me and pulls something out from the inside of his coat.

He pulls it taut between both hands.

“Do you recognise this?”

I do a double-take at the leather belt he’s holding. Lily’s dried blood still coats the metal of the Hermès belt buckle.

Before he even has a chance to reply, Jax flicks his wrist. The sound of the leather snapping echoes through the air as the metal connects with Richards’s arm, and he lets out a howl of pain.

He repeats the action with the other arm. Richard tries feebly to hide from the blow, but it’s useless. The short-sleeved shirt does nothing to protect his foreman as an open laceration appears, blood oozing to the surface.

“What? Nothing to say for yourself,” I say, reaching for the cigar, pleased to see it’s still smouldering. “How about we give you a matching one of these?” I grab his arm and hold it to the inside of his wrist.

“No, p-please stop. I-I’ll pay you.” He sniffs as tears streak his face, and snot drips from his nostrils.

“You think your money can protect you after what you did to Lily?” Elliot says, his hand brushing over my lower back as he tilts his head and holds his other hand out for the cigar.

I smile and hand it over.

“Lily has what? Three cigar burns?” he asks, his gaze moving to mine.

Richard shuffles away, but Jax stops him with a belt lash to his leg.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean there weren’t others.”

Elliot strikes out, grabbing Richard by the throat and squeezing. The sight of him suddenly so unhinged, as much as I hate to admit, is kind of a turn-on.

“You don’t understand?” he cries, his hand reaching out for Elliot’s wrist.

“Oh, we understand perfectly. You’re an abuser. A low life, the scum of the earth. A predator.”

Elliot presses the cigar to Richards’s chest, where his collar is open. The smell of burning hair and flesh marries with his scream, his voice growing hoarse.

“And don’t think we don’t know about your proclivities for little boys.”

Richard sputters an unintelligible response as Elliot tosses the cigar back into the ashtray.

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