Page 52 of Don't Speak
“Wait,” she whispers, lifting her head up and staring at me with the most broken of expressions.
“I need this,” she tells me, her voice cracking. I don’t even have to ask what she means; something just immediately clicks in my mind, and I already know. It’s what I’ve been needing since the day I lost my sister.Revenge.Justice.Closure. I’m so close to ending this piece of shit’s life. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. But she needs this more. And I’ll give her anything she needs.
I nod, meeting her eyes. Standing up, I grip and yank him off the floor, finding the nearest chair. He’s been in and out of consciousness, his face swollen and bruised. He slumps in the chair, and I rummage through his pockets, looking for the keys to the handcuffs. I find them and run over to Nikki, ensuring to keep an eye on Sean while I work the cuffs off her.
“Hang on, little lioness. I’ve got you.”
Tears flow from her eyes, and the second they’re off, she throws her arms around me, gripping me in a tight hug. I hold her, letting her fall apart in my arms. I don’t even want to think about what she’s endured since she was taken. Just on the outside, I can tell she’s covered in bruises, and her hand has a hole through it, dried blood crusting around the wound. Thesight of her like this is enough to make me want to finish the job, but I hold myself back, knowing she needs this more.
As I hold her in my arms, my eyes drift around the room, and I spot a body on the floor. She looks up at me, her eyes roaming to what I’m staring at.
“He killed my mom,” she chokes out. “She died protecting me.”
Her shoulders shake as she breaks down. My heart aches for her, but I know we have a task to complete. Then, when we’re home, I’ll hold her all day and all night if she’ll let me.
I look down at her and into her eyes. “Let’s finish this, and then we can go home, my love.”
She wipes the tears from her eyes, her facial expression hardening, and a fire sparks in her eyes. She nods, and I stand, taking the handcuffs over to where he sits. I cuff both hands behind the back of the chair, and cuff one of his ankles to the leg. At some point, he passed out, so now we wait.
My lioness is about to go hunting.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Standing in front of the man who terrorized my childhood, all I can do is just stare for a moment. I feel so much rage, but so much fear, all at the same time. This man stole my innocence. He violated me in ways I don’t know that I’ll ever fully heal from. I’m damaged inside because of him. He destroyed my soul, forever affecting the way I build relationships. They both did. He and my mother.My mother.
I look over at her body lying lifeless on the floor, and tears start to form again. She died protecting me. The one thing I needed her to do as a kid, she died doing it. I don’t know how I feel about that. I don’t know how I feel about forgiving her oreven if I can, but I do know I am grateful for her giving me the chance to live.
Sean starts to shift in his seat, slowly returning to consciousness. His head lolls before he straightens it, staring directly at me. His face is swollen and covered in bruises, but he’s able to speak.
“You stupid bitch,” he spits. “I almost had you,” he seethes.
“Almost,” I grind out. “But you didn’t, and you’re never going to get the chance to touch anyone again.” My voice rises more than I’d have preferred. In these final moments, I don’t want him to see how much he affects me. Not anymore.
“You know, you were always my favorite,” he smirks.
Goosebumps prick my skin, and bile begins to rise, but I choke it down. His comment ignites a fire in me, and I glare at him. It’s definitely one of those “if looks could kill” moments. I walk over to the table of objects that Dean set out for me.His tools. I’m going to have to get used to that, but that’s a problem for another day. I sort through all of the different knives and torture devices, settling on the blowtorch and barbed wire for now. I place the barbed wire on the concrete floor and begin heating it with the blowtorch. Only once the metal begins to glow red do I let up.
While Sean was out cold, Dean removed his clothes for me, so he sits naked before me, his legs spread apart and tied to each side of the chair. His arms still remain handcuffed behind him. Before taking the now-hot barbed wire in my hands, I grab the gloves Dean provided and put them on to protect my hands. I wince from the pain in my hand, but with the adrenaline coursing through my body, it’s manageable.
Once they’re situated, I grab the wire and walk behind Sean, bringing the wire up and over his body and pulling it tight around his abdomen. He lets out a grunt of pain, his skin searing with contact. I wrap the wire around his body and chair a fewtimes, ensuring it's tightly snug around him. I want him to feel the pain every time he takes a breath, so he can experience just a minuscule amount of what the pain has been like for me due to what he did.
Once I’m done, I walk back over to the table, confidence beginning to overtake every other emotion I had. It’s not like I haven’t thought about this a time or two. Dean has every kind of knife you can imagine, seeming as though that is his preferred method of torture. He has cleavers, filet knives, serrated knives, carving knives, and more. I gravitate toward the filet knife, immediately picking it up. I hold it up to the light, admiring the way it shines. I saunter back in front of him, bending forward to get in his face, resting my hands on both sides of the chair.
“Fuck you for what you did to me. Fuck you for all those nights you slid into my bed. Fuck you for putting your hands on me and mine on you. Fuck you for being a sick fuck who likes little girls. And fuck you for what you did to Charlie.” I look over at Dean, who is leaning up against the wall with his leg propped up against it and his arms crossed. He looks at me with silent appreciation.
Taking the filet knife, I slice off the tribal tattoo from his arm. When I was little, I used to pick something to stare at while I dissociated from reality. Most of the time, his tattoo was the nearest thing to my face.
He lets out another guttural scream before I move on to the next item. Taking the knife again, I slice the series of turtles right off his other arm, throwing both pieces of skin to the ground. His screams are like music to my ears, and I’m revelling in the torture I’m inflicting upon him. I glance up at Dean again, and I notice he’s smirking.Oh. He likes this too.
“You fucking cunt!” Sean screams, roaring in pain. That must have pissed Dean off because he moves from his spot against thewall and quickly makes his way to me, facing Sean. He raises his arm back and punches him in the nose again.
“You no longer get to fucking talk to her like that.” Sean’s head lolls to the side. I can tell the pain is becoming too much, his body fighting to succumb to the darkness waiting to take over. He knows if he passes out, he’ll never wake up.
Dean decides to chime in for a moment. “You know I had a lot of fun with your son today.”
I snap my head to him, hearing this information for the first time.
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. He screamed like a little bitch, just like you,” Dean taunts, getting in Sean’s face.
