Page 5 of The Beautiful Dead

Then, his gaze met mine—widening in horror—giving me exactly what I craved.

“N-no. Anything but that.”

A hollow chuckle left my lips. I shook my head.

“Too late for that now.”

He broke completely then, blubbering nonsense about second chances and forgiveness.

Begging.

Pleading.

But I wasn’t listening anymore.

Hisfearsang louder than any plea ever could.

Straightening, I pocketed the blade just as Ashley was dragged into the room. The boy hit the ground hard, shoved to his knees at my feet.

“No,” Rutter sobbed, eyes bulging. “Don’t you dare fucking touch him.”

He thrashed violently, blood pooling around his wrists where the cuffs bit into flesh.

“You shouldn’t have tried to be a hero,Chief.”

Tears streamed down his cheeks, and his body shook so hard he could barely breathe.

The acrid scent of urine burned my nose. I inhaled deeply, letting the rush settle into my bones.

My bloodsangas he suffered.

Rutter’s pupils were blown black, the whites nearly red from burst capillaries. His terror filled the room, thick as smoke.

I let it feed me. Let itconsumeme.

And fuck, it was intoxicating.

Ashley trembled at my feet, his bound hands curled into fists against the cold concrete. Blood bloomed across his split lip in perfect contrast to his pale, unblemished skin.

I crouched beside him, letting my fingers ghost over his curls before gripping a fistful of his hair and wrenching his head back.

His breath hitched.

“Look at him, Chief.” My voice was velvet-wrapped steel. “Look at your son. Your blood. Your legacy.”

Rutter’s entire body convulsed against the restraints. “Please?—”

I tugged harder, forcing Ashley’s neck to arch, exposing the frantic pulse beating just beneath the surface.

“You’re going to give me that name now.”

A strangled sob wrenched from Rutter’s throat. “I—I can’t?—”

I sighed, almost disappointed.

Then, with deliberate slowness, I ran my thumb across Ashley’s trembling lower lip, smearing the blood that had pooled there. His whole body jerked.

“You know,” I mused, tracing the curve of Ashley’s jaw with the flat of my blade, making him flinch at the touch of cold steel. “I never cared much for mercy. I find it… wasteful. You know what I do like, though?” I continued, my lips brushing his ear. “Breaking beautiful things.”

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