Page 80 of Runaway in the Mafia
I circled the glass in my hand. A smile on my lips. Thinking about how I would angle the saw for maximum gain. As in pain.
“Women.”
I shifted my gaze and locked on my target. “Sorry?”
He moved. Five stools down and scooted closer. One wife beater to another. “I said, women.”
I took another sip to bite down the rage rolling inside me. The bitterness of the whiskey didn’t do shit to soothe it. “Wouldn’t you know it,” I said bitterly.
“Sorry about your wife.”
“Ah,” I turned to him and rested my forearm on the counter, “The bitch had it coming.”
My stomach twisted.No. She didn’t.
He nodded eagerly. Looked to the left and to the right. “My wife left me, too,” he said quietly.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He put his pussy drink down. Something red with a fucking umbrella. The colour he’d turn when I was done with him. “You’d think it’d make them stronger.”
“What would?”
“Kicking them around, of course.” He said it like we were part of a secret membership club.
“Of course,” I muttered.
“But she asked for it.” My knuckles itched with the need to crack his jaw open.
“They always do.” I needed to put a gun through my mouth and burn a hole through my head for the crap that was coming out.
“Exactly.” His voice picked up in confidence. His hand landed on my shoulder, and I couldn’t stop the thunderous glarethat shot his way.I might just about blow his head off here. Forget the fucking chainsaw.Uncertainty clouded his vision, as if he’d heard my thoughts. His hand slipped swiftly away.
“I don’t like to be touched,” I muttered. The amount of lies I had to squeeze out for this jackass. I’d need to cut him into some extra pieces for the inconvenience of it.
“That’s okay, man. Everyone has their kinks.”
“That’s what makes a man.”
“See, you get it,” he exclaimed. “Just because you can’t get it up, doesn’t mean you are not man enough.”
Say what?
He didn’t notice my shock. He was also a few drinks past his limit. “A real man can handle the sound of cracking bone.”
Fuck no.My hand clenched around the glass.
“Sure she deserved what she had coming.” The words almost strangled me on the way out.
“Of course she did.” The umbrella and red landed on the counter. “Just because I can’t get it up doesn’t mean the fucking neighbour gets to glue his eyes on her. I gave it to her once, you know. Showed her what it’s like to have some steel inside her.”
Did he fucking rape her?My blood boiled. Vision turned crimson. The colour of his pussy drink. Rage dripped into my veins.
“It’s all her fault. She just flaunts her body in front of men. She wanted me to feel weak.”
The whiskey trembled in my glass. My hand shook from the effort it took not to smash it on his face.
“I showed her, didn’t I. Weak is what she was. On the floor.” He laughed, and it jackknifed to the part of my brain that stood on red alert. “Trying to crawl away from me. I wasn’t the weak one then.”
