Page 49 of No Mercy In Red

Connor noticed almost immediately, pressing his lips to my forehead as he held me close, “You’ve got this, Max,’ he murmured softly, soothing my trembling nerves. “You’re the strongest person I have ever met. But remember, you no longer have to be strong alone.”

I nodded, breathing him in, “I can’t do it my usual way,” I admitted quietly. “I can’t flirt with him; I can’t let him touch me. I just can’t.” I responded, the last words coming out as a silent plea.

I started tugging at the dress I was wearing, panic taking over me at the thought of him placing his hands on me. My breathing started to grow ragged, my chest aching at the memory of Lara sat outside of my door, her dress ripped, her blank, broken stare. I started to shake, the tears pricking at my eyes threatening to fall at the thought of him even daring to place a hand on my body.

“Shhh, you’re okay princess,” Connor whispered, cupping my face so I was forced to look up at him. “Tony and I will go get him, all you have to do is finish it. We’ll do whatever it takes to get you through this okay? If you don’t want to do any of this, we don’t have to.”

I let out a sigh of relief, the tears I was so desperately trying to hold on to threatening to fall as I looked up at this man I loved so much. This man was willing to do anything to make me happy, to make sure I wasokay, even by risking himself to help me bring my best friends’ rapist to justice.

“I want to finish it,” I breathed.

“Go get changed into something more comfortable and then take my car to the house. Me and Tony will meet you there, okay? I’ll handle this part, sweetheart.” He responded, handing me his keys before stepping away to call Tony.

And they did.

Watching Tony and Connor drag Lara’s rapist, bloodied and battered into the basement filled me with a bitter satisfaction. My jaw clenched with barely controlled rage at the sight of him as they shackled him to the chair, blood already dripping from his nose, his eyes wide with terror. Tony tossed me a small, reassuring smile as Connor moved to my side.

“He’s all yours,” Tony murmured softly. “Make him pay, kid.”

Chapter 36

Max

My hands trembled slightly as I reached for the familiar handle of the small scalpel. I took a deep, slow inhale, trying to ground myself. I needed to be strong, for Lara. She deserved this, she deserved him to suffer more than any man ever has before him in this chair. Jake whimpered pathetically, pleading and crying for mercy.

“Mercy?” I spat, stepping forward, rage searing through my veins. “You don’t deserve fucking mercy. You didn’t give her any.”

I lashed out, not even bothering to take it slow like the ones that sat there before him. I sliced the blade across his face in a hard, fast swipe. Blood blossomed instantly, pouring from the open wound as he screamed, thrashing uselessly against his restraints. Connor watched me intently from the corner, the darkness in his gaze matching my own.

“You fucking hurt her,” I hissed, stepping closer, gripping the scalpel tighter in my palm. “You touched her, forced yourself on her.”

He sobbed, incoherent apologies spilling from his lips as I pressed the blade deeper, carving my fury into his face, down his neck to his chest. Over and over, I carved deep, long cuts, blood splattering my hands, my face. Every scream fed the darkness inside of me, the little control I still had, slowly slipped away as I channeled every ounce of pain, guilt, and rage I felt into him.

“Im sorry!” He shouted, spitting his blood everywhere.

“You don’t get to apologise!” I screamed, reaching for the hammer and swinging it against his knees, a sickening crack sounding all around me.

Tears began to blur my vision, but I held them back. Not yet, I couldn’t break yet. I swung again and again, his legs nothing but lifeless stumps covered in blood. It wasn’t enough. It would never be fucking enough. I grabbed the small bottle of lighter fluid and doused it over his crotch, fury igniting within me.

“You will never, ever hurt her again. You will never hurt anybody again!” I yelled, using the blowtorch to light up the fluid that now covered his most sensitive areas.

I stepped back as I watched the flames consume his pants, burning them away to ash, as his screams, wild and feral, rang throughout the room. As him screams grew weaker, I doused him in water, killing the flames before they could consume more of his flesh. I watched as the steam dissipated around him, his cock now nothing more than a burnt, blistered piece of meat that sat uselessly between his legs. His thighs and stomach had caught the flame too, the skin bubbling and oozing. I forced myself to breathe through my mouth, the smell making my stomach churn.

“Please...” He rasped, barely audible from the pain he was in.

“You don’t get to fucking beg. She begged you to stop. Did you listen?”

I walked over to the work bench, barely containing myself or my tears, picking up the machete and a clamp. The machete was a weapon I could never bring myself to use, too gruesome even for me. But this piece of shit deserved every ounce of pain and suffering. I crouched in front of him, grasping his burnt, blistering cock with the clamp, his hiss through his teeth barely registering as I took one hard swing with the other hand, bringing the machete down in a clean swoop, severing hismanhood entirely. His scream made my ear drums ring as I threw the useless appendage to the ground in front of him.

I turned slowly, watching his almost lifeless body slump in the chair. “Connor, hold him upright for me.”

Connor didn’t say a word, hiding the cringe in his face at the sight of Jake’s burnt cock sat on the floor. He gave me a single nod and pulled Jake to sit up straight by the back of his hair. I lost myself in the blood, my pulse roaring in my ears as I slashed and slashed away at his flesh. Cutting open his chest, his arms, his legs. Over and over again until he looked like nothing more than ribboned flesh. He didn’t make a noise anymore, he didn’t move. My chest was heaving as the tears began to roll down my face, my scream ripping through my throat with each exhausted swing.

“Max, it’s done,” Connor murmured, releasing Jake. Walking toward me, his voice soothing against my ear, “He’s not going to hurt anyone again.”

My chest heaved with broken sobs, the machete slipping from my trembling fingers as I collapsed against Connor, my face burying into his chest. I released another heart wrenching scream into his chest, my throat raw as I shook in his arms. It was over, done. Tony came back down the stairs silently, looking at the scene with understanding eyes as Connor stood, lifting me into his arms.

“I’ve got you, Max,” he whispered softly into my hair, holding me close, his warmth enveloping me. “You did good, sweetheart. He won’t hurt anyone else, not ever again.”

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