Page 15 of One Hellion of a Christmas

sparks

Wipingthe blood off my hands, I gazed down at my newest masterpiece. I gave the piece of shit strapped to the metal table a grin that had my brother pissing himself. Miguel trembled, his screams muffled by the rubber ball gag Jamie had stuffed in his mouth earlier.

In the past, when I was forced to take an enemy to the hole, I muted my emotions. It was easier to sleep at night if I turned off part of myself while I was torturing people for answers the cartel needed. But this time, I was fully present. The darkness that Miguel had helped Sancho sculpt into the perfect PCC assassin was front and center, ready to play with the sonofabitch who had tried to take Hayat away from me forever.

“You played a dangerous game,hermano. Keeping Sancho focused on Hayat, letting him think that her connection to Vitucci meant the Italians were moving into cartel territory. Even though I sat down with you and Vitucci to reassure you that no one would touch the PCC as long as you kept your hands off Ali St. Charles and Sixx Sinclair. You kept Sancho afraid. Continuously fed him bullshit that Hayat was the link to keeping control. While, all along, you were pushing him out, taking over right under his nose. Smart, my brother. Damn smart.”

Picking up the fillet knife, I teased the blade over his cheek, barely adding pressure. A thin line of blood beaded, the edge so sharp I could have easily used it to take off his skin one layer at a time. Miguel knew what I was capable of with that knife. He was the one who’d taught me to dissect a man’s balls from his body.

Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes. “All those bright ideas you had about taking over. But you forgot who the real danger was,hermano. You got so cocky you fooled yourself into imagining you were untouchable.”

I flipped the knife handle in my hand, twisting it over my fingers, watching my brother’s eyes follow the glint of the overhead light on the metal of the blade. Sweat from fear seeped out of his pores, stinking up the room along with the scent of the piss he couldn’t contain.

Over. Under. Over. Under. The blade missed nicking my skin by mere millimeters. Deft. Sure. Confident. While the man on the table watched. Afraid. Alone. Awaiting death.

“If you had kept her out of your little game, Miguel, you would have been safe. That’s all you had to do. Seems like a simple enough rule.” Faster than his fearful eyes could keep track, I slammed the blade into his shoulder.

His muffled scream of pain echoed off the walls. I pulled the blade free and wiped his blood on his cheek, scraping off some of his stubble.

“Greedy people forget the most important rules, though. Don’t they,hermano?” I taunted, bending my head so he could better see the malice that had consumed me. “You could have had everything you ever wanted if you had just left her alone.”

“I never realized how creepy you could get. It’s weird as fuck, but I’m kinda turned on right now.” Jamie picked up one of the many other tools from the table beside where Miguel was laid out for us.

“The smell of fear and desperation is an aphrodisiac,” I explained with a shrug, accepting the torch he offered me. “Freaked me out the first time I got a boner after smelling a room like this. The brain knows it’s wrong, but basic instinct doesn’t understand.”

“Huh, I guess that makes sense. Does this thing get hot enough to melt bone?”

Laughing at the ADHD brain of my best friend, I ignored Miguel’s whimpers as I lit the torch and handed it over to Jamie. “Let’s find out.”

Ky moved away from the wall where he had been watching. He’d gone into a cartel hole with me more than once. I’d taught him a few things because he’d wanted to understand how my mind worked. It had helped him unleash some of his own pent-up darkness. Release some of the hate that had infected his heart because of his stepmother. And I hadn’t felt so alone with him there to pull me back so the monster didn’t take full control. “Start with his fingers. Smaller areas first to make the pain build.”

Jamie grinned wickedly as the glow of the flame reflected in his eyes. “Yeah, we definitely want to take our time. I’ve got a helluva lot of aggression that I need to get rid of before we get back to our girl.”

I winked down at my brother as I stepped back. “Can’t argue with that, now can I,hermano? Try not to pass out from the pain before he gets bored. Ky wants his turn too. And then, I’ll consider how much more you can take before I gut you like a fish.”

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when an SUV pulled up a few yards from where we stood, watching the pigs finish up their Christmas feast. Vaughn knew the area well enough that he hadn’t needed GPS to drop us off in the middle of the night.

But it was Samara who climbed from behind the wheel when the driver’s door opened. “Did I miss all of the fun?” she asked with a pout as she came over to stand beside the pigpen with us.

“I can never eat bacon again,” Ky muttered.

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Samara dismissed. “I still have some sausage left over from the pig we fed Lynn to. Fucking delicious. Want me to make you some when we get back? I save it for special occasions. What better way to celebrate Christmas morning?”

“Pass,” Jamie and Ky muttered, looking a little green as the pigs continued to clean up the mess we’d made of Miguel.

She cocked a brow at me. “What about you?”

“Hayat helped you with Lynn?” As expected, she didn’t answer, but there was a mischievous tilt to her lips. “And she still eats bacon.”

“Waffles are life, and she would never turn down a side of bacon with them,” Ky agreed, still looking queasy.

Jamie shuddered. “She’s not eating anything containing pork until after the baby is born.”

A jolt went through me at the reminder of our girl being pregnant. While we’d handled Miguel, I hadn’t let myself think about her or our baby. But now that I knew she was safe from the last of my biological family, I was finally free to dream about a future of chasing after miniature Hellions.

Grinning, I threw my arms around my friends’ shoulders. “Best Christmas morning ever.”

“Psycho,” Samara singsonged.

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