Page 79 of Hearts Held
Bracing my hands on either of her shoulders, I lean my forehead onto hers and state, “Are you going to sit there and make excuses for everyone and everything in your life?” My eyes bore into her. Then I step back and raise my voice, trying to drive my point to full understanding. “In YOUR LIFE. Take control, Brielle. This is your chance to unleash.”
I walk behind her, placing my hand over her palm grasping the knife. Her hand is trembling mildly; she’s scared.
Understandable.
Though this will not do.
So I whisper in her ear, “Want to know why he is so notorious? It isn’t for his mafioso family.No. You want to know what he was going to do with you, dove? He was gonna do what he does with all girls. He was gonna force himself on you. This gremlin loves to hear women in agony. He loves toinflictpain. He thrives onfear. He is vile. He would have tormented you, then cut off your nipples and done other heinous things.”
She gasps as her body shudders in fear, but I see her eyes have now narrowed.
“Bring the men back in,” shedemands.
I yell for Kenneth as the men march back into the room, file alongside the barn walls and watch as I make my dove into a malicious crow.
“The things he does to women make my men sick. He doesn’t live with a code. He has no morals or values.” I raise my hand to point at the piece of shit, then return to her. My chest is against her back. Her breathing is steady. Lowering my hand back onto hers, I realize her hand isn’t trembling anymore.
I continue to coax the violent fire raging inside her. “Think of every fucking bastard that has put their filthy fucking hands on you. Take it out onhim. Make them all pay through his flesh and bones.”
She clears her voice but stands firm. “I was scared,” she states only for me to hear. “But my feelings have changed and the spirit inside me is no longer is anxious. No. It is angry. It wants redemption.”
“Yes, darling, be set free. I’m allowing you to take all your trauma out on him. I’m giving you permission to perform your darkest desires,” I whisper in her hair and tenderly kiss her cheek.
Realizing all my men are watching, I make a mental note to punch any fucker that comments on the kiss.
She slowly turns to face me. “Be an asshole,” she jokingly murmurs.
I nod proudly. God, I want to slash this fucker apart with her, but she needs this. So I stand with my hands clasped as I let my little murderous crow release her vengeance.
“Biscuit?” she asks with confidence. “Fetch me some meat hooks, please?”
He doesn’t even pause.
Biscuit and another Adder run to the other room. They fetch the meat hooks and return, long chains in hand, then begin draping them onto the ceiling of the barn.
They stand awaiting Brielle’s next order with admiration in their eyes.
“You talk too much,” Brielle mentions as she stares at Giorgio with a stone-cold gaze.
He shrugs his shoulders and places a smug look upon his face. “What can I say? Women love my tongue,” he quips as my men growl and murmur at his arrogant remark.
Brielle looks toward Bobby and asks for her nursing bag from my vehicle. When he returns shefishes through it, pulling out what appears to be a suture kit and a long, thick curved needle.
“I need some men to keep his mouth open, please.” She makes the order so kindly as she feeds the suture line through the eye of the needle. It looks like thick black yarn, but much more strong and intimidating.
Giorgio tries to protest, though Kenneth and another Adder jump at the chance to aid in his torture. They pry his jowls open, hinging either side of his jaw with their large hands. Giorgio’s nostrils flare in anger as he tries to thrash within the chair, yelling, sputtering and spitting.
My girl dons hospital gloves and walks toward Giorgio, needle in hand, and slowly pierces him with it just under his jawline. He shrieks in pain as tears fall from his eyes. I spy Kenneth reach for Giorgio’s tongue and stretch the pink member out and over his bottom teeth. He holds it in place as Brielle again pierces under the jaw, then through Giorgio’s tongue.
His screaming amplifies, interspersed with his pathetic sobs, as Brielle loops the needle back under his jaw and through the tongue a few more times, sewing it in place. Blood trickles down his neck and teeth, trailing after his tears.
After Brielle ties off the thread, she stands before Giorgio’s crying, pained form with a stoic face.
“Will someone cut his clothing off, please? I don’t think he should have the privilege of a woman’s touch on his last living day,” she calmly states as multiple men step up and begin manhandling Giorgio’s clothes, ripping off the thousand-dollar pinstripe suit until he sits bare in the wooden chair. His body shakes in the winter chill.
Brielle stalks toward him and reaches for the meat hooks from the ceiling. Then she shoves both into Giorgio’s shoulder blade, piercing the skin, causing him to scream in agony. She nods at Biscuit, and he pulls Giorgio of out the chair, hauling his bare body into the air by the hooks.
Thick streaks of crimson slide down Giorgio’s back and slowly down the back of his thighs.
