Page 119 of Rage

“What the hell are you all doing in here? It sounds like a lot of fun.”

I take in the scene she’s faced with; me with a bloody knife still in my hand, Tino’s palm over the loser’s mouth, making him swallow the useless lumps of raw meat I hacked off, Lockey casually leaning against the far wall again, a disengaged look on his face.

The knife drops from my hand, useless excuses forming on my tongue as my jaw drops.

But the little brunette woman just smiles at me. “I guess it must be your car in the driveway? Nice of him to whisk you off without even an introduction. I’m Caoimhe, but you can call meKeev, like everyone else does. And, you know, I’d shake your hand, but…”

She tapers off, but I get why. I’m not exactly presentable right now.

Her gaze turns to the other occupants of the room with a muted sigh. “Boys, dare I ask why you’re hurting people in the shed again?”

Lockey shrugs, pushing back off the wall to defend our current act. “He deserves it.”

She eyes the bound captive. “Pretty sure I don’t want to know, do I?”

“Nope.” The big Italian shakes his head in concession.

“Fine, just... Can you keep it down, please? Ijustgot the baby to sleep and you know the bedroom is this side of the house. You’re being pretty loud.” I think she’s about to leave, but she whirls on her heel, adding further instructions. “And while I think about it, can you not get blood on the front door mat again, please? I’d hate to have to throw this one out. Plus, if you’re going to light the fire pit later, which I would suggest given the state of Tino, could you please make sure to do it after the boys are asleep? Youknowhow they like to get involved.”

And that’s that, as she exits, closing the door firmly behind her.

Lockey eyes Tino impassively. “Yeah, she’s not wrong, buddy. You got a little something… There’s a little red on you.”

He chuckles, looking down at his shirt, the light blue color barely visible under the vital crimson lifeblood of the now unconscious man. “Shoulda’ worn black, I guess.”

Lock clicks his tongue, an irritating habit I recall that he clearly still hasn’t shucked. “I have something you can borrow, it’s fine.”

“Don’t wanna go tramping through the house though, man. I don’t want to be in trouble with your girl for anything.”

“Ah, she’ll take it up with me, you know that. She likes to bust my balls about shit all the time.” He shrugs, nonchalant in the face of her clear control.

“I like your wife,” I chuckle. I really do.

He grins at me. “That's my girlfriend. And yeah, so do I, but you should know that my wife don't give two fucks either."

I look at him, confusion drawing my brow into a frown. "You... Wait. You have a wifeanda girlfriend?"

"Sure. I'm married to Anna. You remember her?"

"I do." They had worked together, back at the club when we first knew Lock. And, knowing him, the news doesn't exactly surprise me.

"Right. Keev's my Mistress, and we all live together. One big happy fuckin' family; most of the time. Anyway—you done here?”

I look at the sack of bloodied muscle, bone and sinew that, truthfully, can no longer call itself man, because I’ve removed the very parts that seem to define far too many of them. Not the two with me today, but I sense they have a deeper understanding of what it means to be awoman.

I take a breath, decision warring with the hurt I want to inflict. “Yeah. I’m done.”

“Cool. Tee? Take out the trash, dude.”

“My pleasure.”

I close my eyes as the hunting knife comes out again, drawing a deeper line across his throat, the gurgle of his last breath only barely lifting the shroud of anguish.

He’s gone. But that won’t make his victim right again, in any way.

* Stronzo- asshole

Epilogue

---