“That was kind of gentlemanly,” Liliana mutters.
Ah, it was also really hot.I need to get laid more often if this is where my bar is for things that get me excited.
Floor now wet but clean, I walk to the group where Liliana presses a loaded gun into my hand.
“Remember all the fucked up shit this man is responsible for and act accordingly,” she says with a nod. “We aren’t looking to keep him alive anymore, so however many bullets it’ll take to make you happy, is what it takes to kill him, Baby Girl.”
To be fair, the man in front of me is a mess. The words dick cheese, monster, quack, and twunt are carved into skin among others. He’s been stabbed, castrated, and skinned. There are also burn marks along his body and his hair has been shaved off his head.
Taking a deep breath to center myself, I raise the gun and remove the safety. As much as I joke about gun safety, Liliana has shown me more than just the basics. However, I haven’t shot a gun since high school.
My first squeeze of the firearm is loud in the basement, the shot sinking into his chest. Dr. Gerald Michaels is a large man, and weighs about two hundred and fifty pounds at five foot nine. His eyes go wide at the pain of the shot, and I feel a spike of adrenaline.
I shouldn’t want to hurt him, but I do. He knows some of the most intimate and personal details of my life. This monster listened to my fears, and found a way to twist them within me to make them worse.
Another squeeze of the trigger registers in my mind before I move my arms slightly downward. Eight bullets find their way into his body, and I don’t even realize I’m crying until I gasp in a breath and my vision begins to blur.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” Jared murmurs, kissing my forehead as he gently removes my hands from the gun.
“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” I confess, wiping away my tears. “You know what, I do. I fucking trusted you!”
I’m screaming, but no one says a word.
“Tell him, Rachelle,” Elijah says, handing me something. It’s a metal bat.
Everyone moves away to give me space, while I scream and swing it into the doctor’s wide, fucking chest.
“I came to you a mess, scared of my damn shadow, and you used that against me,” I say, choking on my emotions as I swing at the son of a bitch’s head. The dull clanging sound of metal hitting bone is gratifying in so many fucked up ways.
His head rocks back on his shoulders as he makes a pained sound, but it’s not enough. I don’t know if it ever can be.
“I did everything you told me to, and it did nothing,” I wheeze. “I couldn’t regulate my emotions, sometimes even showering would throw me into a panic attack. All you would tell me was to try harder.”
The words are bitten out as I swing again. This time, four men in the room flinch at my words. As much as I’ve forgiven Ignacio, he was there when I was thrown in the creek. I am still scared senseless of bodies of water where I can’t see my feet.
Theo doesn’t know this, but the exercises in the pool are better exposure therapy than anything Dr. Michaels has ever done for me.
My arms are shaking with exhaustion by the time I drop the bat to the ground, and my chest is heaving. The screaming wasn’t great for my sore throat, but my soul feels lighter. The fucker is still alive though.
“You can’t handle a gun safely right now,” Mr. Cruz murmurs, watching the way my arms are shaking.
“We got this,” Jared says, moving to the table with various tools. “His heart won’t last much longer. Let’s use the wand Lili was using earlier.”
“I hope it gives his nuts post traumatic stress,” Lili mutters. “It’s a little heavy, I’ll help you hold it.”
“We’ll help,” Elijah growls, making my head twist so quickly I hurt my neck. “I want to watch the fucker know that he couldn’t break Rachelle. We stand for her, which means we’ll never allow that to happen.”
“Shattered glass still makes gorgeous things when put together again,” Theo says softly. I can tell that means something to him, and I wonder if I’m the glass.
“I need you, Rachelle,” Jared says, and the words make me smile. I don’t know that he really needs anyone, but I appreciate the sentiment.
Jared lifts the wand, and I have to admit that it looks scary. I know I just shot eight rounds of bullets into a man, but damn.
Liliana, Jared, Theo, Ignacio, and Elijah’s hands join mine as we lift the wand, and my thumb pushes the button to full force.
“You’re the thing that won’t die, Dr. Michaels,” I rasp, my voice definitely fucked. “No one lives forever. I hope hell is extra hot, just for you.”
Pushing the wand against the skin above his heart, I watch his eyes roll back in his head as we force him into organ failure. I even ask Mr. Cruz to check for a pulse, just in case, before he pulls the good doctor down to take him to the pig farm.