Page 39 of Lost in Me

Jesse takes a deep breath allowing my words to swallow him whole. “Soon, death will claim her and your child, and they will both be mine forever, you motherfucker. You did this. All you had to do was walk away, but you didn’t, and now you will suffer a life without her, and I will have her in the afterlife. Guess I have still won,” he says with a smile. A smile that won’t last very long.

I look down at the knife in my hand and feel the sharpness against my fingertip, imagining what my Angel felt each time Jesse cut her skin. Each time, she screamed for me to help her, but I wasn’t here. I should have fucking been here.

I look back at Jesse. He won’t say it, but I can see his fear. It is radiating off him just like I know it was radiating off my future wife. “Let’s see if you can take the pain you gave,” I state, allowing a small smile to form across my lips.

“You will never fucking break me. You fucking prick,” Jesse snaps back. He actually thinks he can fool me, but he can’t. I see right through his fucking bullshit. He will break. They always break eventually, and looking at him now, I can tell he won’t last that long.

“We will see, won’t we?” I state in a low, dark voice.

“See what?” he asks.

I allow for the smile to grow across my face as I tilt my head to the side. “If you scream like a little bitch,” I answer.

I see the rage building in his eyes. His breathing becomes more unstable. This prick won’t last long at all. He thinks he is in control. He thinks he can talk his way out of this. I am done fucking talking.

“You know she screamed for you. She screamed for you as I pushed my fingers into her pussy and took what was already mine. She screamed for you, but you weren’t here, Shawn. You weren’t here to stop me,” he states with his own smile thinking he will get into my head.

But it won’t work. I am done playing his fucking mind games. It is time he fucking plays my game.

“I am now,” I state softly as I close the rest of the distance between us. I lift my hand with the knife and gently place it against his chest. I begin to press down, watching the blood slowly start to leave his soon-to-be-open wound.

It has been so fucking long since I have killed someone, but this is a promise I must follow through with. I can be a better man tomorrow. Tonight, right now, in this moment, my Angel doesn’t need a better man. She needs the old me. The old me is the one who will make sure this gets done. The old me will make sure he feels every little fucking thing we do to him.

I tighten my grip on the knife as I start to slice down the middle of his chest, putting more pressure as I make my way down, watching more and more blood pour out of the wound. Hunting knives are perfect for cutting flesh. It was an idea Ethan came up with on the jet, a perfect fucking idea. I continue to slice down to his stomach.

I look up at Ethan, nod, and watch him and the rest of my men take out their knives. They all come to the bed and leandown, placing their knives on a part of Jesse’s body, and we all begin to cut through his flesh.

It only takes a few moments before he starts to scream and struggle against the chains. The chains that refuse to let him go. The chains that will make him stay in place as we each carve his flesh, making him feel fucking everything he has ever made Emory feel. I know I can’t take back what he has done to her, but I can make sure he will never do it again.

I look down at my hand. The knife is now down by his dick. I forgot how easy it is to cut into a man’s flesh, but it is all coming back to me now. The high that comes along with holding someone’s life in your hand. I look down at my hands. They are covered in his blood, and I slowly move, making sure to keep my knife against his dick as I position myself at his feet.

“Now you know what she felt,” I whisper to him as I cut into his dick. His body starts to shake and his screams get louder as I reach down with my free hand keeping his dick in place as I watch the blade cut through. I can feel his blood on my chest, arms, and face.

He will never be able to do this to anyone ever again. No one will remember him. No one will care that he is gone. He will be nothing but a fucking nightmare that won’t even exist. He will fade. His name will fade.

I stand up, releasing his limp dick, not a fan of holding someone’s fucking dick in my hands, but it was worth it. It was worth watching the blood pour out. The blood loss alone will fucking kill him, but that is too easy.

I look up his body at the carvings my men have made. I look up at Jesse. His eyes are wide, and he is staring at Ethan as Ethan grabs his tongue and cuts through it with his knife.

Guns would have been cleaner, but I didn’t want clean. I wanted pain and suffering, and the knife is the perfect way to do it. You fucking feel everything with a knife. There is no escapingit.

It only takes moments for Ethan’s hunting knife to cut through Jesse’s tongue. The tongue is a strong muscle, but it is no match for Ethan and his rage. He doesn’t love Emory like I do, but she is a part of his family now, and I know Ethan would make anyone suffer for doing harm to a person he sees as family.

We all take a step back as Jesse continues to bleed out. His screams are no longer loud as he tries to breathe through the blood filling his throat.

I slowly make my way around the bed and stop at his side. He turns his tired head and locks eyes with me as I lean in and place my blade against his throat. “Just remember who she loves,” I whisper as I slice across his throat. I back away, watching the light from his eyes start to dim, the cold darkness of death starting to take him.

I feel a hand rest on my shoulder. I turn and look at Ethan. His breathing is steady and even. His face is covered in blood.

“Brother, you need to go,” Ethan states, making my heart race. I can’t, not until this is done, I promised. I fucking promised her.

“What? No. I can’t. I promised,” I state in a low, shaky voice I don’t recognize.

Ethan takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Both our hearts are racing from what we just did. “Shawn, listen to me. He is dying. He will be dead in a few minutes. You have kept your promise to her, brother. Emory needs you,” he says, begging me to listen to him.

I take a deep breath as his words sink in. I turn and look down at Jesse. He is no longer moving. He is covered in blood. Ethan is right. Any minute now, he will be dead.

“Okay,” I whisper, dropping the knife to the ground.

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