When I tear the mask off my face, his eyes widen and his jaw falls open, preparing to spew excuses to try and get him out of this mess.
"You don't fucking talk unless I tell you to." I growl, cutting off all of the words his tongue trips over. "I mean it. Not a fucking sound. Understood?"
His wide eyes traipse from me to Wes, clearly trying to figure out what’s going on. "Yeah, I-"
"Understood?"
Khan's brows furrow in confusion, and his gaze darts to Wes again, who smirks as he pulls the balaclava off his head and tucks it in his waistband.
"You should listen to him." He warns.
Understanding finally seems to take hold, because Khan nods slowly.
"You're a sick fucking bastard, you know that?"
"I-"
I grit my teeth and rear back, sinking my knuckles into the side of his face.
Blood flies from his mouth as his head whips to the side, and with my touch no longer holding him up, he crumbles to the floor.
"You forgot you're supposed to keep your mouth shut already?" I laugh. "I don't want to hear your excuses."
I want to cut his tongue from his mouth. I've been thinking about it from the moment I watched it disappear between Soren's soft thighs, heard his disgusting fucking slurping sounds.
He opens his mouth, which is close enough. I kick him in the head this time, appreciating thecrackas his nose shatters under my boot.
"You know why I'm here?” I growl. “Why I'm doing this?"
Khan's too fucked to answer, probably even to hear the question, so I get down on his level, dropping my weight so that I rest my arm over my knee, the knife in hand.
"You can speak now, to answer me. You know why I'm here?"
"I didn't do anything!" Khan sobs, blood and spit and snot running down his face together. Tears, too.
The fucker iscrying.
Such a little bitch. He can't even stand a sucker punch and a little kick? He wouldn't survivehalfof what my girl has.
"Wrong." I chuckle. "Really fuckingwrong. You're sick, you know that? Pretending to be her friend to victimize her? How fucking long was your game, anyway? Did you befriend her just for this?"
"I couldn't help myself.” Khan sobs, pressing his forehead to the floor as blood pools out around him. “I love her."
"Love?" I laugh, but I can feel my sanity slipping fast. Madness has me in its grip, and it’s addictive as I kick him again, appreciating the way he folds himself in half to try and protect himself. "That's not fucking love. You don'thurtthe ones you love." Not like that, anyway.
"I couldn't help myself!" He cries again, lifting his head off the floor to look desperately at me. "I had to have her. I'm obsessed with her."
I can't tell if his confession is an attempt to appeal to me.
I'm obsessed with her, too.
But I would never dream of making her hurt in ways her body didn't enjoy. As many times as I thought about folding her in half and taking her hard and ruthlessly, I never would have done what he did.
I wanted her submission. He wanted her body... theshellof her. And the shell of her isn’t her at all. It’s void of all the things that make Soren, Soren.
I wanted the things that made her who she is while my cock was stuffed inside her tight cunt... her wit, her banter, her anger. He wanted her broken, helpless, and weak.
"Obsession isn't love." Wes says coolly. "They can feel the same, sometimes. But love heals. It doesn't tarnish. And based on what my friend here has told me, you tarnished what belongs to him."