Page 48 of Bound to a Monster

He pours her a drink, which she doesn’t touch while he shows off a bunch of pieces he’d never pull out around me in a million years. All the while sheoohsandaahsover his stock, and the prick keeps glancing at her breasts right in front of me. He finishes a glass of whiskey in about five minutes, and Carmie doesn’t waste any time going in for the kill.

“I know you’ve been having a great year, so why are you giving my husband such a hard time?”

Emory laughs and leans back in his chair, hands folded over his gut. “Darling, did he really send you in here to do this negotiating?”

Carmie waves a hand. “He tried to stop me.”

“But you’re a very determined girl, I see.” Emory’s grin is suggestive, and I feel myself lean forward in my chair, tensing.

“Come on. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Emory sighs and waves a hand. “Lev’s fine. I even like him. But I have a deal with his father, and if I start changing terms without even talking to my customers, then that’ll reflect badly on me. All I have is my reputation in this business.”

“I’m his son,” I say, doing my best to keep the anger from my voice.

Carmie cuts me off again by leaning forward. “Surely, your deal is with the store, not with the specific man running it, right?”

Emory hesitates. “Well, the contracts?—”

“They can be drawn up again.” Carmie pouts ever so slightly, and I’m about to lose my fucking mind. “Come on, Emory. Lev’s a good man. You know that.”

He frowns at her, then gets up and comes around the desk. He sits on the edge right in front of my wife and reaches out, snatching her hands up into his. “Listen, Carmela, if this were for you, I’d do it in a heartbeat. You know you’re a beautiful woman.”

She fidgets slightly, seeming uncomfortable by how close he is now. “Right, but I’m asking?—”

“And, darling, you’re married now. With such an ugly ring.” His words are slurring slightly. The drunk bastard’s practically drooling on Carmie’s chest at this point. “I could’ve gotten you a better stone, you know.”

I shove my chair back, unable to stop myself. “That’s enough.”

“Emory, really, I get it, but maybe do me this favor,” Carmie says, laughing, clearly uncomfortable and trying to salvage the situation.

He doesn’t even react to me. His grip tightens on my wife’s wrist. “We can make a deal, Carmela. Just the two of us. What do you think about that?”

“Emory, please let me go.”

“I’m only negotiating the way you want.”

“Emory—”

I storm forward and grab him by the throat. He croaks in shock and releases my wife. She pulls back, leaping from her seat and getting out of the way as I wrench the fucking disrespectful piece of shit from the desk and slam him onto the floor.

“You motherfu—” he starts, but I slam my knee into his neck. He gags, eyes bulging, as I grab his left wrist and hold it tight.

“You touched my wife,” I say very softly as the darkness inside of me feasts. “And now you have to hurt.”

“I don’t?—”

I twist hard. One sharp jerk does it. The wrist breaks and he screams as it goes limp. I push my knee down tighter, choking him and holding him in place, as joy and pleasure fill my chest like cool rushing water.

Thisis what feeds the monster lurking deep inside of me. Pain, so much fuckingpain. I’ve been so good about keeping it locked away and hidden from Carmie, but now it’s time for her to see who I really am.

What I really love.

I twist Emory’s index finger and pull it back until it snaps. He screams, crying now, as I break another finger, delighting in his suffering. I barely feel it when Carmie begins hitting me, and I only stop when she starts pleading.

“He’s choking!” she screams and drags at my shoulder. “Lev, you’re going to kill him.”

She’s right. I am going to kill him. He touched my wife right in front of me and made lewd insinuations. And when she told him to let her go, he didn’t instantly pull away.

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