Page 134 of Injustice and Absolution

Draven’s right. I need to concentrate my energy on Drew without letting him infiltrate my thoughts. There can be no mistakes made where he’s concerned. No chance for error.

And we need to stay on our toes in the event someone comes here looking for him. There’s no doubt in my mind that there are others working with him who may stupidly attempt a rescue mission. Which means this whole compound is compromised.

But we’re the Royal fucking Bastards.

You don’t fuck with us and live to see another day.

With a clear head, renewed determination, and my creativity sparked, I hop down from the table.

“I’m good,” I assure Draven when his eyes meet mine. “Let’s go back in there and get started.”

It’s time to make him pay for what he did to Delilah.

I promised her I would make him suffer, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

ROYCE

Tugging at the chain fixed to the pulley high above us, the same one that’s linked to the shackles around Drew’s ankles, I raise him off the ground and upside down into the air.

Saxon just had a go at him, giving Drew a couple new contusions courtesy of his brass knuckles. Blood flows from his broken nose again—not for the first, second, or third time in the past couple days. With a satisfied grin, I listen as it funnels through his nostrils and into his throat, choking him.

I laugh at the sound of his sputtering as he tries to lift his upper body enough to turn his head and reroute the blood to drain from his nose.

As he does this, I let go of the chain, and his body crashes onto the concrete beneath him. I hear a snap followed by a bellowing scream as I approach him to investigate which new injury is causing him pain this time. When I get closer to him, I see his clavicle bone peeking out of the skin just beneath his shoulder.

"Oof," I cringe, a shit-eating grin on my face. “That looks like it hurts."

It's been two days since we dragged this piece of shit in here. Giving him just enough water to keep him alive, we’ve been working around the clock, tormenting him every minute of the day.

Finally home, where she belongs, Delilah has awoken for only a few minutes at a time. Just long enough for Maggie to give her some water and take her to the bathroom before she goes comatose again. Despite my best efforts to rouse her at other times throughout the day to see if I can keep her awake longer. Maggie yells at me whenever I go near her room, afraid if I don't let her fully wake up on her own timeline I could fuck her up even more.

I’ll do it if necessary, but I’d rather not hire another nurse to administer an IV and catheter like we did before. Both Maggie and I remember how painful it was the last time we brought her here when she was like this. Nights were long, and anxiety ran high as we worried whether or not she would ever wake up.

And it didn’t get much better once she did either. She spent months as a goddamn mute. She barely ate, barely moved. Had it not been for Maggie and Doc Caraway, I don’t think she would have made it.

The only reason I've listened to Maggie and stayed away is because I'm scared of making another wrong decision where Delilah is concerned. I’ve made too many already.

I’ve kissed her, fucked her, rejected her, went against my better judgment and left her behind when I should have fucking dragged her back here...

But I don't know how much more of this I can take. I know she's strong enough to make it past this phase and onto the next, but she can’t do that if she doesn’t try.

The doors to the cannery open behind me as Drew continues to writhe in pain, buck-ass naked on the ground. I turn around, and a vicious smile curves at the corners of my lips when I see who it is.

I watch as Stella, one of our harlots, struts toward me with a gym bag over her shoulder.

"Good to see you," I greet her.

"Excited to be here. It's not every day I’m invited to partake in the torment of a club enemy.”

“Well, given the nature of his crimes and your distinctive proclivities, I thought you could help us diversify our methods of punishment.”

Stella is a sadist by nature. She gets off on both the pain she doles out as well as her victim’s reaction to that pain—whether they’re a willing party or not. I gave her no orders other than to make it hurt.

I can't wait to see what she has in store for Drew tonight. Placing her bag down on the ground, she crouches next to it and looks at me.

“Anything goes?” She seeks clarification from me.

---