Page 12 of Deviant

Without waiting to see the bastard crumple, I turn my focus on the other two. One aims a punch at my face, but it’s easy enough for me to dodge it and land my own. I take his legs out next, kick them right out from under him so he lands on his arse beside his mate, leaving me one final man to face off.

He’s bigger, both in fat and muscle, and clearly more up for this fight. There’s a scar that mars his right eyebrow like someone ran a razor through it, only just avoiding taking out his eye. Pity that.

I raise my fists, preparing for him to make his move.

“Stupid bitch,” he spits. “Really think you can outrun us?”

I narrow my eyes but avoid answering, besides, what would be the point? It’s a waste of my energy.

With his right hand, he pulls a knife, nothing too big but enough to do serious damage if he stabbed me in the right place.

He throws himself at me, slamming his body into mine and we land on the ground, him on top of me and his entire weight pushing all the air out of my lungs.

I jerk beneath him, trying to get my legs free. One of his hand gropes me as he lowers his face right into mine. “I’m gonna enjoy turning you into my whore,” he taunts.

But that’s all the time I need, the moment I need. I pull my head back before slamming it into his nose. I know I’ve hit my target when his blood splatters onto me.

Shouts echo behind us.

I can’t tell if it’s more of the Brethren coming to help or strangers inadvertently coming across the scene. Either way, I know this won’t help me in the slightest.

But the noise is enough of a distraction to my assailant to allow me to wrestle the knife from his hand and stab him in the stomach.

Oh, I know it’s not deep, I know it won’t kill, but it might just slow him down and that’s all I need. Just a few precious seconds, just some advantage here.

I scramble up, hating the fact that my bag is too far to get to, and with my heart slamming into my chest, I run for my life.

Ican’t keep the laugh in. A few of my men glance at me, no doubt confused as to why I’m not more pissed, but Conrad meets my gaze with a smirk.

“Stupid fuck thought he had her.” he murmurs.

I’ll admit, the more I see of this woman, the more I see Anthony failing to catch her, the more I’m starting to relish the moment we finally meet.

She’s a firecracker and one I’m going to enjoy breaking.

From the cameras, I see one of the men lean down and pick something up. It’s her bag. So she’s lost her supplies, then. That’ll certainly turn the screw a little tighter.

But I’m annoyedwemissed this opportunity. She was there, within our grasp, all we had to do was reach outand grab her, except we didn’t, did we? We fucked up, just like Antony did. We also let her escape.

I start barking orders, after all, we know where she is now, and it has to be me that wins this. Me that beats Anthony.

When I walk out, I don’t go to sleep, despite the late hour. Instead, I head back to my basement, to where my soon to be plaything’s accomplice is currently locked away.

It wasn’t easy to track him down. He was clever. Careful. He knew exactly what our limitations where because he was one of us. Too bad he made one mistake. One stupid little fuck up.

If he hadn’t run, if he’d held his nerve, stayed in post, we’d never have spotted him in the first place.

Sadly for him, he didn’t have the balls and now he’s paying for his crimes, just as that bitch will pay when I get hold of her.

“Well, Ronin,” I say, as I enter the room. He’s been hanging for a few days. The ropes have soaked up so much of his blood that their now blackened with the congealed mess of it all.

He’s not let down to piss or shit and instead, is forced to defecate where he is and my nose wrinkles as I take in the stench of him.

Both his legs are gone. Hacked off. As is his dick. It took hours to do it, hours to saw away inch by inch, cauterising as I did to ensure the bastard didn’t bleed out and end his suffering early.

And then I took great delight in barbequing his legs up for him and forcing the man to eat it all, piece by piece, while his dick I’ve put on ice, having another idea of what to do with it.

Maybe I’ll fry his fingers next, create little kebabs out of them, or I could mash them all up, bones and all, create a smoothie of his hands for him to guzzle on.

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