Page 123 of Ruthless Beasts

"How's your brother?" I retorted.

It wasn't the wisest decision, and I fucking knew it. But I couldn't stop the words from leaving my mouth. Hell, I didn't really want to. I wasn't afraid of dying. I'd done everything I'd wanted to accomplish in this world and more, except being a father. And while I would love to experience that gift, I'd love to buy my wife time to escape more. She was my priority, not the death I knew he'd gift me.

His arm raised up, the gun whipping across my face as he slammed it into my cheek, forcing my face to turn in a snap. Blood pooled in my mouth as I turned back toward him, spitting the saliva and blood that had gathered at him. He only laughed, not fazed by my actions.

"You have a little fight in you, do you?" He mocked as he stepped forward, holding a gun in one hand and a knife in the other. His grin grew as he took the tip of his blade and poked it into my exposed flesh, tapping it against my bone.

I bit down on my tongue, willing myself not to make a sound as my vision grew fuzzy. I'd been shot before. Burned half my body when Accardo attempted to burn me alive, and somehow the memories of those pains had faded from my mind, becoming less excruciating than the pain I was feeling in this moment.

Willing myself to move, I used my good leg to kick out, kicking his arm and knocking his gun from his hand. It was a temporary fix, but all I could do in the second. I didn't have use of my hands. I could barely use my body at this point. When had I become so fucking weak? When had I let a single man take me down so fucking easily?

"Your son didn't," I taunted. "From what I hear, the old man of a brother put up more of a resistance than your kid ever did." My voice was so fucking rough. "Tell me, how did it feel to watch your son die? Was it as satisfying as it was for me to kill him?"

The blade moved fast, slicing through my flesh by my collar bone, flaying open the skin as blood poured out. "Your skin peels away so damn easy, like a fucking fish." The sharp edge ran down my bicep, and I closed my eyes against the pain. "Anyone ever tell you your flesh is as soft as a peach?"

"Why don't you suck my cock and tell me if I taste as good as one too?"

"That wasn't a compliment. I hate peaches. The taste is disgusting, the skin... vile." His blade skimmed over my body as he decided the next place he'd find joy in slicing. "But I think your cock will be the first piece of you I feed to the fishes. What a lovely little treat they'll have."

"If I'm going to die, at least something will get one last enjoyment off my dick." I grunted as he pushed the blade into my inner thigh, not deep enough to damage anything, just deep enough to remind me that if I moved, that blade was going to nick my body in the most unpleasant of places.

"I'll get enjoyment removing it. You've always been dickless in my eyes. Going after my brother when you could have just come after me. Killing my child to rescue your whore." He tsked and my blood boiled at the name he called Belle, but I was not about to react and cause myself more harm in the moment.

"You're one to talk. Your son was a grown ass man when he died, and he didn't deserve the pure joy that Bellamy could bring. Fuck him, I'm glad he's dead." I winced as he sunk the knife into my opposite thigh, blood instantly trailing down my leg, seeping warmly into my cold, wet pants. At least when my body is found, the rain would wash away the blood. Bellamy didn't need to see all of that, too. When he let go of the handle, leaving the blade sticking from my leg, I continued, "If I recall, you went after my wife and child. Who is really dickless here?"

"They were casualties of war," he gritted out.

"We weren't even at war until you forced me to lay my family to rest," I growled, becoming more agitated as the memories kicked in.

"My goal was you. They were just collateral." He shrugged, and his blatant dismissal of the death of the people I loved ticked me off. Sure, I may have been the goal, but their lives mattered. They were everything to me, everything I had at that moment, and he stole them for a war he declared without my knowledge.

"They were more than just collateral to me." I growled the words.

After pulling the weapon from my thigh, he ran the tip of his knife over the scars he created along the side of my body. The scars that went all the way down, deforming me and making me feel like a fucking outcast in my own damn skin. "I didn't kill you. But this... this was the next best thing. They spent years calling you the beast, all of you, the beasts of the trade. Killers. Murderers. Ruthless animals. All because of this pretty little scar you carried. Put there because I was stronger and smarter thanyou. I still am. Your men aren't here to save you. That girl, she'll die too. She's so fucking weak; she could barely fight me off up there. Maybe I'll cut that child out of her stomach, claim my grandson as my own before she goes. Maybe, I'll wait. Have my fun with her, torture her for weeks before killing her. Either way, that little piece of my son is all I have left, and it's mine. My grandson is mine."

I closed my eyes against the intrusive thoughts he was putting into my mind. I would allow none of that to happen. Not to her, not to Belle. Even if I died right here, right now, I knew that Ace and Mercer would save her. Or they would die trying. She was our light in this dark world, and I'd be damned if I let him take our light.

"Granddaughter," I gritted the word out through my clenched jaw.

He froze. His movement stilled as he gripped the hilt of the knife. "Granddaughter? That's impossible. Mafia men only have male children."

"Clearly, it's not." Did I sound that stupid when I half-jokingly told Belle that? Jesus.

"I've always wanted a girl," he mused. "I… A girl? This changes everything."

"It changes nothing. You will not touch a single hair on my child," I challenged.

"The amount I could marry her off for. The deals I could make. The—" I couldn't listen to what he planned to do to my daughter for a second longer. He'd never get his hands on her. I struggled with the ropes, not caring as I brought my knee up just enough to knee his stomach, knocking the wind from him.

His curses filled the air, battling against the howling wind and pounding rain. "You fucking bastard. I'm going to take joy in killing you." He stepped closer, his knife by my throat as he yanked my hair back.

"Do it," I challenged, and for a moment, I thought I heard the faint sound of a dog barking. "Fucking kill me. Mercer and Ace, they'll never let you have her. You distracted them for a while, I'll admit. Good planning on your part. But distractions only last so long. They'll come for her."

"And by then, you'll be dead."

"Probably. And you'll swiftly follow." I smirked. "Meet you in hell because I sure as fuck plan on taking you with me."

"You'll have a long wait. I've got plans for them too. Bloody, painful plans." His smirk sent a stone of dread sinking in my stomach. "Maybe I'll make them watch as I fuck her. Think they'll like that? Hell, I'm not sure what the fuck you've been up to here in this mansion of yours, but I'm sure watching happens a lot around here, since you're all so fucking close."

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