Page 4 of Ruthless God

Once we arrive there, Keanu and Jameson lean against the soundproof walls. Jameson is munching on an apple, while Keanu grins like the Joker. Keanu gets off on hurting people, but no one suspects that about him because Keanu acts nice and kind, but under the façade, he’s as heartless as they come.

Jameson eats the last bit of his apple, then tosses it in the trash can.

They must have seen what happened, which explains why they are here before me. This is the only thing the basement is made for—torturing people.

The faint smell of bleach hits my nostrils. If the FBI knew my body count, they would gladly throw me in prison, but being an American God, I can get away with just about anything and everything. No one can touch me. My father has judges, cops, and lawyers on his payroll. Everyone has a price.

When Jameson tosses me a baseball bat, the fucker tries to elbow my stomach, but he misses, so I slap the bat against his kneecaps and his bones shatter as he falls face-first, slamminghis skull on the concrete. He screams at the top of his lungs as blood drenches his face, and he spits out his teeth.

“Please, I d-didn’t know she was with someone,” he pleads.

It’s always the same.

I’m sorry.

I didn’t mean to try to hurt her.Or my favorite,I didn’t know she belonged to a God.People think of me as a god in North Haven University, not just because I’m an American God but because my family is one of the most powerful in the world.

My patience is running thin, so I slam the bat on the backs of his legs, and he whimpers as tears rush down his cheeks.

Keanu chuckles, pulls out his phone, and snaps pictures of the guy. “A pretty sight.”

Jameson yanks his cuff links out. He’s the only one who seems normal, but he’s far from it. He knows how to manipulate people to get what he wants. Plus, he’s a genius hacker. “Dude, what did Snow say about pictures?”

Keanu rolls his eyes, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “You two are no fun, I swear. What’s the purpose of torturing him if you can’t keep a memory?”

I don’t have all day to deal with this lowlife.

“Jameson, help me tie this ugly bastard to the chair,” I snap.

He grabs his right arm, and I grab the other, and we tie him to the chair, then I place a cloth in his mouth, slapping duct tape over his lips.

I hope the bastard chokes to death.

Gripping his chin, I dig my black-painted nails into his flesh, drawing blood.

“What did you have planned for my Blue? Did you have plans to rape her and leave her for dead? Were you thinking about fucking her while she’s unconscious?”

Keanu laughs hard. “You’re going to die.”

I slam my bat against the guy’s chest, and he wails into the cloth. Hearing his bones crush is music to my ears. His dress shirt is drenched in blood.

“What a lovely sound,” Jameson says with a sound of delight in his tone. He loves to hear people scream in agony.

“You won’t ever rape another woman again.” I slam the bat across his face and his skull bursts into tiny pieces, and his head dangles off his neck, creating a pool of blood.

Keanu checks his pulse, and he takes out his phone, snapping pictures again. “He’s gone.”

“Put that away. What the fuck is wrong with you, Keanu? Why do you need pictures of your victims? What are you going to do? Jack off to them?” Jameson says, annoyed.

Keanu grins from ear to ear. “I might.”

“Get rid of the body and all the security camera footage,” I tell both of them as I remove my suit jacket, then I head to my room and change into a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants.

Once I leave the mansion, I stop by Lyrical’s favorite restaurant and grab her go-to order of meatballs and noodles.

I drive on the highway, and it’s blocked off because of an accident. Smoke fogs the clear sky as firemen hose down a car and burning trees.

Paparazzi snaps pictures and a policeman leads me to a detour, so I follow his instructions. When I walk into the penthouse, I waltz to the kitchen, set Lyrical’s food down on the counter, and call out her name. But she doesn’t respond.

---