Page 54 of Ruthless God

I’m going to make what Jigsaw did to his victims look like a walk in the damn park.

“Let me go, you fucking bastard!”

He tries to wiggle his way out of the rope restraining him, but it’s no use. He won’t be able to get free, and if he does, he won’t be able to take all of us down at once. He’s too weak.

When I step up to him, I yank a fistful of his blond hair that’s caked in blood and then punch him in the face, hitting the exposed wound. Biting down on his lip, he tries to keep himself from screaming.

Pure rage courses through my veins and I grind my jaw so hard, my molars ache. I need to distract myself from thinking about Lyrical. I can’t stop obsessing over what she’s doing. I’m not giving her space either, so she better suck up whatever feelings she has about me not allowing her to watch me kill Samuel.

I don’t care.

She can’t see this side of me. I know we’re a team, but I’m the one who handles the nasty work. I’m doing this to protect her. She doesn’t realize it.

“Why did you try to kill my fiancée?” I snap.

He screams for help and Jameson punches him in the face. The way Jameson carries himself, you would think torturing people is beneath him—you wouldn’t think he would get his hands dirty like this.

But he can be more savage than I am.

I glance at Irvin; he looks like he doesn’t want to be here. But it’s in our code to trust and protect each other. I’m still working on the trust part. Since I drowned him, he’s been keeping his distance from me, but I know the bastard well enough that he’s waiting for the right time to strike back at me. I can’t use Lilac as leverage to keep him in check because she told him she doesn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore.

Samuel spits out blood, getting my T-shirt wet. Blood is a bitch to get out of clothing.

I’ve had enough of his bullshit.

“Keanu, cut of his pinkie finger,” I order.

“Delighted to.” He removes his Swiss army knife from his pocket and slices through the pinkie finger, causing Samuel to wail in pain as blood squirts onto the concrete.

“Please! I beg of you! Let me go!” he screams, spit flying everywhere.

“Cut off his thumb.” My tone is calm and deathly.

“Fine. I’ll tell you. I was paid to do it.” His voice is hoarse.

His face is turning more pale, and if I don’t hurry up and get all the information he knows out of him soon, he’ll die on me.

“By whom?” I ask.

“He shows up in a white mask, never revealing himself to me.”

“How did you get in contact with him?” Jameson asks.

“He contacted me and told me he’d send me thirty thousand in cash if I took the girl out. Kill her.”

“Give us his address,” Jameson asks, folding his arms across his chest.

“I-I don’t have his address. He meets me somewhere.”

I cock an eyebrow. “Where?”

Samuel snaps his mouth shut.

I squeeze the wound on his severed finger.

“I can’t tell you,” he groans through gritted teeth.

“Your life is hanging by a thread. So tell me.”

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