Page 70 of Loyalties & Longings

After what feels like ten minutes, he falls quiet. That’s when I step up to his side and run the blowtorch over the bullet wound to cauterize it. I can’t have the swine bleeding out and dying too soon on me.

Cue another bout of screams.

Poor bastard.My demon laughs.

After haphazardly throwing the torch back atop the trolley, I walk around to stand directly in front of Massimo. The longer I think about all the things he has done to Lake—what he was about to do to her—the more my vision turns red.

The saying ‘seeing red’ gets thrown around a lot, but I am literally experiencing it at this moment. I know now that it’s not just a saying, and I’m not sure if it’s because of my inner demon or the fact that this fucking low-life prick was about to stick his filthy dick into a girl.

My girl.

It’s as though all of the blood in my head is rushing to my eyes, tinting everything in red hues. Maybe it’s because I want to beat this idiot senseless until all I see is blood—his blood—covering my hands and his clothing and skin.

Without even thinking, my fist connects with the side of his face and then his nose. The sound of his nose crunching and blood spurting from his face is so satisfying. After about five or six punches to his head and face, I feel his head lolling forward.

Stepping away with my teeth bared in a snarl, I grab a cloth to wipe his blood from my hand and toss it back on the bottom shelf of the trolley.

Since he’s passed out, I take a moment to collect my thoughts. I don’t want to kill him, not yet anyway. I start pacing, wondering if Lake is okay. Stalking to the shed door, I pull it open, noticing the sky is now bright blue with a few clouds about. It’s such a nice day.

A nice day to kill someone.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Lake

I slowly wake from the hazy depths of slumber.

My head is pounding, and I hear a droning, beeping sound. My brain feels fuzzy. Opening my eyes, I see Doc taking my temperature. Once my brain catches up to all that happened after the bar, I sit up quickly. With the sun glaring in through the gap in the curtains, I instantly grab my head in my hand, and the overwhelming feeling of a headache and dizziness surge through me.

“Tell me what you remember, Lake.” Doc’s hand comes to my shoulder to stop me from getting up from the bed.

“I came home and saw Dad.Dad! Is he okay?” I attempt to get up, but Doc’s reaction is fast, and he holds me back by my shoulder.

“It’s okay. He’s all right, Lake. I took care of him first, but I need to know what happened to you.”

“I saw Dad and then felt a needle in my neck. Massimo injected me with something. My body felt like Jell-O straightaway, and I couldn’t move my limbs, but I felt okay, just a little foggy. Until I passed out, just before he...” I trail off, tears choking my words. I can’t even think about what he did, what he was going to do to me. I don’t want to know if he did or not.

Doc nods. “It sounds like he used a neuromuscular blocker. You should be okay. It’s much like general anesthesia.”

My head hurts trying to process what he’s saying, and I shake my head.

“But it didn’t last very long.”

“No, I assume not. A normal intramuscular dose would only paralyze a patient for around six minutes.” He’s now rifling through his medical bag.

He hands me two tablets and a glass of water already on my bedside table. “Take these. They’re extra strong ibuprofen. You’ll be fine to move around after about ten minutes with no head pain. Give me a call if you need anything else,” he says before getting up and leaving.

“Thank you,” I call out to him the best my dry throat will allow.

After swallowing the pills, I get up to go to the bathroom. I feel okay now. I think I got up a little too quickly before.

Coming out of the bathroom, I hear Doc closing the front door as he leaves. I edge my way downstairs. I don’t see Blaze, but that doesn’t mean he’s not here. I do see Dad sitting on the sofa with his leg up.

“Amore mio,” he all but yells, trying to sit up straighter.

Giving him a weak smile, I hold my hand up for him to stop. Gingerly sitting on the coffee table, I let him take my hand in his.

“I’m okay, Dad. I’m actually feeling better now that I’m physically up. What time is it anyway?” I ask. I can’t see the clock from where I’m seated.

---