Page 113 of Tear Me Down
He lets his head hang again, but I don’t give him a second to relax before I jerk it up again.
“Did you stop raping my wife after she mentally checked out?”
He stares into my eyes, finally accepting his fate. There will be no escape for him, and there’s nothing he can do to sway my decision. Information and begging won’t save him, and there’s no reprieve in sight. Just me and whatever hell awaits him when I finally allow him to die.
The next question is one that I need to know, but something I’ll never tell Ashia. I never thought there would be something that I would hide from her, but if his answer to this is what I think it will be, there would be no going back for her. None of this torture would matter to her, and she would never be able to look at the world the same way again. Her healing may never come, and that’s not something I’m willing to risk.
“After you took her, did you know she’s pregnant?”
His gaze never falters, but those corrupt eyes widen only slightly, revealing what I feared. Those men must have seen the test in the bathroom and notified him after they arrived with her. There’s no question about it now, and my retaliation will be dealt with double the intensity. I look down at Daisy, and watch as she sits calmly, though not with the stiffness she shows when she’s called.
“Set.” I command her again, and her body goes taut, now ready for the other two commands.
“NO! No, no, no… Please… Not again…” He sobs again, thrashing around and shaking his head so harshly, he might give himself whiplash. I point the laser at his kneecap this time, on the opposite leg.
“Lock.” She rises up again, almost in an identical stance as the first time, and readies herself. Her teeth show through her trembling lips as she growls, and even though there’s traces of blood and flesh in the creases of her teeth, she’s ready to go again.
Hugo isn’t staring at me anymore, he’s staring directly at Daisy, trying to silently plead with her not to go through with this, but he’s got to know that the thought is ridiculous. Even if she could understand him, she would never break her loyalty to us.
“Engage.” She lunges a second time, latching her jaw onto his knee and jerking her head side to side. His screams ring out once again, but the relief isn’t there this time. Nothing but hatred is coursing through my veins, and as satisfying as it is to watch Daisy rip him apart, I can’t help but wish that I could do it myself.
It isn’t until Daisy rips his kneecap clean off do I call her down, and as she takes her relaxed stance, the cartilage hangs half out of her mouth like she’s debating on whether to eat it or not. I don’t want to mess up her diet, knowing that her schedule is special because of what she does, so I instruct her to drop it.
Hugo has now passed out, and as I grab the burger press once again, I swiftly make my way over and hold it against his capless knee, causing him to jolt awake in agonizing screams. I imagine it won’t be long before his body tries to shut down, and I’ll have to use the adrenaline to keep him alive. Perhaps giving Daisy a small break will do us both some good, and while she’s taking a breather, I can inflict my own damage.
After I peel the press away again, I walk back to the table and survey my options. Countless instruments lay out before me, and yet, none of them seem worthy of the type of pain he deserves. My body is trembling with a mix of emotions I can’t decipher. I can feel the hatred, the despair, the self-deprecation, but it’s all counteracting my admiration for violence. A tingle that once felt good is now soiled by the depth of his depravity, and the hole in my chest feels bottomless.
This never should’ve happened. He never should have been anywhere near her, and my men shouldn’t be dead. I’m usually so vigilant and meticulous. Nothing gets past me. I always have my shit together, forever the one that’s prepared for anything and everything, and somehow, I failed. Everyone has saidthat I couldn’t have seen this coming, that there was no indication of the warehouse bombing or Ashia being kidnapped, but I should’ve seen it anyway, known that those scenarios were a possibility and prepared for them. Of course, Hugo would sacrifice his own men to get me out of the way, and only having six men guard our home? Rookie mistake.
My heart starts to race again, creating a tightness in my chest that I can’t get rid of. A heaviness that’s weighing down on my bones so elegantly that it’ll crush me before I can realize what’s happening. There’s a cold chill that runs through the back of my neck and down my spine, fighting a battle with the fire in my chest, and as my muscles start to tense, it all becomes too much. The physical pain meets with the torment in my mind and suddenly everything is too bright and too dark all at the same time. There’s too little noise and too much, and the sounds of his whimpers and cries are suddenly comparable to nails on a chalkboard, pushing me over the edge.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I scream out and throw one of my knives in his direction, and he jolts as the blade sinks into the right side of his body. He screams again, and instead of feeling bad for my outburst, I only feel angrier.
I storm back over to him, making it in only two strides before I grasp his thick neck in my hand and start to squeeze, feeling the strain of his throat as he tries to swallow back a sob.
“I said shut the fuck up.” My free hand grips the knife and turns the blade, almost unwillingly. If I can make him feel an ounce of the pain I do, then maybe, just maybe, some of this agony will go away. The truth that’s been laying in front of me all along, but I’ve been trying to ignore. The one that screaming right next to my ear, but instead I hear whispers and taunting words.
I’m not enough.
I will never be enough.
She deserves better.
It’s all my fault.
I put my wife in danger.
I put my baby in danger.
My men are gone.
Bradley.
Darren.
Jeremy.
The men at the house.
