Page 30 of Cast Stones
Thepièce de résistanceis the seat—the sharp, pyramid-shaped wooden device that sits on three legs positioned directly beneath him. When I left, he hovered above it. Unfortunately for him, he has twisted so much that the rope slackened, and now it’s shoved up so far up his ass, it’s licking his colon.
I smile as I pull the sock out of his mouth, and immediately he starts screaming for help. Irritating, but useless. No one can hear him.
I let out an annoyed sigh. “Are you done now?”
“You’re crazy, man!”
Insults don’t bother me. Especially true ones. Shrugging, I place the sword on another table behind me. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
The stupid motherfucker jerks on his restraints, wincing when the pyramid gives him a spontaneous colonoscopy. “Wh-why are you doing this?”
Closing the distance, I look him in the eye. Sinner to sinner. Executioner to the condemned. “I’ll tell you if you tell me something first, and no lying. I hate lies, Jackson. They’re a sin.”
“F-fine. Yes. Whatever you want.”
“In what world did you think you could put your hands on Madigan Bailey and not get them chopped off?” In just speaking the words, my blood doesn’t just boil, it turns damn near volcanic. I want to drive my knife into his chest and drag it down until his guts spill onto the floor.
His face blanches. “What? I didn’t touch her.”
Irritated, I press the tip of my knife against his throat. “What did I say about lying?”
“Fine. I fucked her. But she wanted it. That bitch has been begging for my dick for years.”
“I’m afraid this conversation isn’t going anywhere,” I say with a frown. “Less talk, more action.”
Jackson’s eyes widen with fear. “No! No!”
His cries fall on deaf ears, along with his screams. It takes me only seconds to carve the number thirteen into his chest. It doesn’t surprise me that his skin breaks easily. It’s just as weak as he is.
“Now,” I muse, watching the blood drip down his chest. “Maybe you’ll be more forthcoming with the truth.”
“F-fine,” he stutters, his teeth chattering in shock. “I may have held her down, but so what? Why the hell do you care?”
Wrong answer. Wrong. Fucking. Answer.In seconds my hand is around his throat. “I care because she’s mine!” I roar. “I care because you stuck your dick in a sacred place. One that I claimed first! I care because I bleed for her.” I punch my chest with each word, the black mist spinning in my head as I glance up at the ropes. “And now you will too.”
His horrified eyes follow mine. “No! I’m sorry!”
Turning toward the table, I pick up the long Cutlass sword and take my stance behind the harness. “Sinners always repent in their final moments, Jackson. I hope God shows you mercy, because I sure as hell won’t.” With that, I slice through the ropes, impaling him onto the tip of the pyramid.
I spit on what’s left of him, my bloodlust still unfulfilled. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.”
Tightening my grip around the sword, I cast a glance toward the cabin door. I’m tired of waiting and watching from the shadows while she battles the light. Madi should know where she belongs. It’s time to remind her.
Chapter Twelve
Appraising myself in the mirror,I run my hand through my sleek, chestnut bob. Another new style will take some getting used to, but a renewed shot at life deserves a brand-new look.
I’m trying. Fuck knows, I’m trying.
Two months has been long enough to deaden the worst of the nightmares, admittedly with the help of a shit load of prescription meds. The blackouts have stopped. Even the walls don’t bleed anymore. My past dragged me to the edge of a breakdown, but I managed to stop new cracks from forming before I became irreparable.
I breathed another sigh of relief after that piece of crap, Jackson King, moved across the state last month. His memory is already fading, as are the scars he left behind. I feel stronger. Hardened. No one would ever mistake the woman looking back at me abovethisbathroom sink for the one who walked out of that courtroom a poor, rejected, sacrificial lamb.
“He’s gone.” Drying my hands, I let out a resigned breath and paste on a plastic smile. “They’re all gone, including Luca. Get over it and move on.”
New Madigan doesn’t dwell on the past.
New Madigan goes on first dates with nice men that her roommate Grady sets up for her every Saturday night.
