Page 124 of Babalon

“Would you beat him to death then make him record his goodbyes to the woman he loves?”

“He wouldn’t be able to talk if he was dead, I like how you think I have some sort of magical powers.”

“Your savior does, does he not? I don’t think he gives a goddamn about his people.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“What? Don’t like that? Which hurts more, Lucien? Knowing your real father thought you were the worst piece of him turned into a snot-nosed child who begged and pleaded for his crack whore of a mother? Or that God doesn’t exist, and if he did, he’d fry you in the pan with the others you have left in pieces across the state of Michigan?”

Reaching out, Whitlock slaps the cigarette from my hand and shoves the remainder of the pack off the table well out of my reach. Awarding him a scowl.

So scary, Lucien.

“If you talk ill of my mother, I’ll cut your tongue out and skull fuck you.”

He leans in, closing the distance, and whispers.

“The tongue is the best part, Lucien. Ask your father, he loved the feel of his cock sliding over your mother’s while she gagged and choked on her own vomit.”

Rage boils in my blood and we both know it. Volleying mommy issues back and forth between each other like a pair of adolescents.

“Last chance, Detective.”

“You were right, you know. My mother doesn’t have anything to do with me. Angry that I followed my father’s footsteps, hates that I look like him and nothing like her. I did my best to show her the kind of man I am and that I’m not like him but still… she looks at me the same way your dad looks at you. At least my mother is still alive to tell me she loves me.”

When I lunge for him, he rears back and clocks me again, sending my head into a white-hot pain. The feel of blood starts to well up in my mouth. He’s so fast it’s unreal.

“I could kill you where you stand!” I shout.

“Like you killed Kace!?”

“I’m going to use the same method on every last living family member of yours.”

My head snaps back with the third hit, then the fourth. An ache in my teeth and the tender spots on my face radiating up into my brain. I start to open my mouth and let him have a few more promises, but he reaches out to hold onto the front of my jumper and wails on me.

“This is what… I think… happened.” Whitlock huffs out.

With a shove, I slam back into my chair, head lolling forward to shy away from the blinding light. Sensing him stepping around the back of me, I curl my hands around the chains that secure me to the table and throw my head back with all the force I could gather.

“Nice try,” he smarts, his hand taking hold of my dark hair and slams me forward. My head ricocheting off the table just as he smashes it down again.

“You killed him, and let his girl get raped.”

“Wh… what they… were doing, was a crime.”

“Who made you the judge of that?”

“The Lord, pig!”

“Your God doesn’t exist. You’re a puppet, a toy, and you killed Kace, and all those other people, for nothing!”

“They deserved their punishment!”

“Kace too?!”

“Especially Kace! He deserved everything I did to him. Every beating, every broken bone, the way I let chains constrict around his ribs and squeeze the air from his lungs while his ribs cracked. Taking Nadia from him. Humiliating him by releasing myself on his chest in that hallway. He deserved his punishment!”

“Say it, Lucien. Say you killed him.”

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