Page 36 of Poisonous Savage

"Fuckers,"Ispat, defiant, the word a shard of glass on my tongue.Hunter'sface flashed behind my eyelids.He’dcome for me… right?

"Come... on..."Irasped, my voice a threadbare whisper, summoning strength from memories of sun-drenched days spent by the lake.Fight.

Angelo'sboot heel ground into my hand, bones grinding together, a raw scream tearing from my throat.Buteven as darkness flirted at the corners of my battered spirit,Irefused to yield.

"Stillholding on?"Angelosneered, looming over me, his silhouette a dark monument to cruelty.

"Youagain,"Ipanted. “Surprisedyou’re still around, given what a goddamn coward you are.”

Myheart thrummed a warrior's rhythm in the dim light, with shadows overhead.Theycould beat me, starve me, leave me for dead—but they would never extinguish the fire that burned within.

“Oh, littleRosie, the apple ofHunter’seye.You’regoing to pay dearly for his absence.”

BeforeIcould say anything, darkness descended with the thud of his boot on my head.

Thedam inside me broke, a torrent of tears spilling hot and unchecked down my bruised cheeks.Asob clawed its way up my throat, raw and ragged, echoing off the filthy walls of my prison.Thestench—sweat, blood, piss—choked me as much as the grief lodged in my chest.They’dbeaten me, starved me, used me as a bathroom.Theonly thing they hadn’t done yet, was rape me.

Goddamnit,Ihadn't wanted to cry.Nothere, not in front of them, but the despair was a living thing now, gnawing at my insides, relentless.Myhands shook asIwiped my face, smearing the salty wetness into the dirt that caked my skin.Iwouldn’t let these bastards see me break.Couldn’t.

"Pathetic,"Angelo'svoice slithered through the dark, his silhouette looming over me.Ihardly had the energy to meet his gaze. "Cryingfor your hero?Heshould've been here by now.It’sbeen a week since we’ve had you,Rosalind.Seemsodd he hadn’t bothered yet."

Iforced myself upright, ignoring the pain that shot through my battered body.Theywouldn't get the satisfaction of seeing me crumple.

"Surprising, isn't it?"Hiscruel smile twisted in the dim light. "Nosign ofHunter.Maybehe doesn't give a flying fuck about you."

Alaugh bubbled up from my throat.Ofcourse, he cared.Hehad to.Hehad been changing for me.Hadn’the?

"Ormaybe..."Themenace inAngelo'stone crawled under my skin. "He'sjust enjoying his freedom too much.That'sit, huh?Withouthis ball and chain?"

Isqueezed my eyes shut tight against his words, against the image ofHunterout there, laughing, breathing... whileIwithered away in this hellhole.

"Tick-tock,Rosalind."Angelo'sboots scraped closer as he grabbed my hair, wrenching my head up.Istifled a cry as a chunk came out in his grip. "Ifhe doesn't show soon,Imight let the boys have their turn with you.Adifferent kind of entertainment."

"Fuckyou,"Ispat, my lips cracking from lack of hydration, the taste of iron thick on my tongue.Iimagined the frog tattoo onHunter'sback, imagined that poison coursing throughAngelo'sveins.Theburn he would feel before he contorted and writhed in agony.

"Suchfire," he mocked. "Butwe'll see how long that lasts, won't we?"

Angelo'slaughter chased after me asIretreated into the recesses of my mind, where dreams of waterfalls and sunlight still lived.I'dhold onto that light and clutch it tight until my knuckles turned white.Becauseif they thought they could snuff it out, they didn't know who the fuck they were dealing with.

MARCO

Blood.Itseeped into the concrete.Anotherdead man.Anotherdead end.Theair was thick with the metallic tang, and screams bounced off the walls as our men worked tirelessly to torture information out of these lowlifes.We’dblown up the remaining warehouses, and yetRosalindwas nowhere to be found.Istood besideHunter, my hands slick with the life-juice of yet anotherBlackHandscumbag, his pleas for mercy nothing but white noise.

"Fuckin' talk,"Huntergrowled, his voice a low thunder that promised worse than pain if the piece of shit before us kept his mouth shut.Hedidn't need to raise his hand; the threat hung heavy in the air.

Iwatched, impassive, muscles coiled tight.Eachscream, each plea etched, bouncing off me.Thisis whyIwas the best.Thisis whyHunterchose me.

"Please," the man choked out between sobs, “Ihave a daughter, a wife.”

“Weknow.”Hunter’ssmile made the man shut the fuck up and stare.

"Wronganswer,"Imuttered under my breath.Sawthe shudder that rippled through his frame, the way his eyes widened a fraction more.Theyalways broke eventually; it was just a matter of when.

Hunternodded, andIturned.Phasetwo.Istrode out into the dusk and grabbed theJeepkeys on the way out.He’dhad been careless.SpokentoRattoo freely, let slip details about his family—a mistake he'd soon regret.

Ifound the house easily enough, tucked away in a sleepy neighborhood, its facade a mask of normalcy.Inside, unsuspecting, she waited for the key to unlocking her husband's stubborn silence.Ihated this part, but he should be thankful we don’t hurt kids.Thatwas part of our code.

Imoved like a ghost, slipping through the back door without a sound.Myheart beat slow and steady.Shewas there, in the kitchen, her back to me, humming some happy pop tune, stirring something.

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