Page 109 of Three
“Do this at home. I just want to see some blood before going to bed,” Uri adds.
“Way to ruin the mood,” Ramiel grumbles, turning toward the door and tapping in the code. Uri follows us and goes to play with his knife in the corner.
As soon as Jasper sees us, his eyes widen. He says something, but the gag in his mouth muffles it.
“It’s part of the code.” Ramiel points at Uri. “Revenge kills are never done alone.”
The code, right. I need to get a copy of that.
“Politicians love to blabber all the time. It’s our turn to talk now,” Ramiel tells Jasper as he goes to the tool table and chooses a small knife. “The strike bird is one of my favorites.” He also grabs an iron stake, stalking slowly toward Jasper with a happy smile on his face, which is kind of creepy in a situation like this.
I just stand there and look at Jasper while my gut starts to burn with hatred and revenge. He did all those horrifying things for years, hurta countless number of people. He killed Malcom and Loretta’s father and tried with me and Opal. And there’s also the fake charity matter.
I need Ramiel to know one thing before he continues with his bird talk. “I will kill him. He’s mine.”
He glances over at me, eyes narrowed. “I’m yours, nobody else,” he claims possessively. Then he nods and turns back to a trembling Jasper.
My spunky red.
“As I was saying, the strike bird is fascinating because after catching prey, it impales it on thorns, branches, or barbered wire, any available sharp point.” Jasper’s fearful eyes follow the stake that Ramiel keeps waving in the air as he talks. “Earning the name butcher bird. Then it proceeds to eat its prey by dismembering it with its strong beak. Now, personally, I’m not a cannibal, but my boyfriend has a dog, and I bet he’d love a juicy, meaty bone.”
I’m pretty sure Ramiel is only saying that to make Jasper piss himself—which he’s doing. Fuck, it stinks.
“That was fast.” Ramiel turns to me for a moment with a disgusted expression.
“Get to the point!” Raph’s bored voice suddenly booms into the room, but when I turn around, the glass is tinted, preventing me from seeing who’s outside.They thought of everything.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch!” Ramiel barks as he lifts the iron stake and then swings it down hard. A loud, piercing cry fills the room, and I see Jasper’s tearful eyes widen in agony. Drool is rolling down the corners of his mouth.
I am not a bloodthirsty person. For me, it’s always been kill or be killed. I just do what I have to do. But in this case, I’m on Ramiel’sside. Jasper needs to suffer for what he did, and impaling his dick on an iron stake looks like a fit punishment for his sins.
Then Ramiel moves the knife in his right hand. Is he really going to dismember him now? Like the butcher bird?
Jasper is shivering, his skin is covered in sweat, his glasses have fallen on the floor, and he keeps moaning while trying to talk against the gag. He jerks back as Ramiel lowers the knife to his pec, but there’s nowhere to go as the sharp point starts carving the name LORETTA on his chest.
“You tried to take what’s mine and now you have to suffer,” he explains while the knife keeps moving.
My fingers brush the beads around my wrist. Fuck, I love my vengeful, crazy, sassy man.
Jasper’s screams and howls lose intensity as Ramiel keeps carving. There’s a puddle of blood and piss under the chair now. And it keeps getting bigger.
I don’t feel any wrongness in what we are doing. Quite the opposite. But I know that it’s time to end this.
“Red,” I call.
He spins around, showing me he added a bear on Jasper’s stomach. I would smile, half-exasperated, half-amused at him if I wasn’t about to kill my cousin.
“My turn,” I tell him. He pouts like I stopped his fun, but lets the bloody knife drop on the table.
I move toward Jasper, feeling both Ramiel’s and Uri’s eyes on me as I stop behind him. The stench of body fluids and sweat mixed with the penny smell of his blood almost makes me gag.
His head is lulling, but he jolts and wails when I push a finger inside the bullet wound on his shoulder. I wrap my other hand around his chin and jaw and bend my torso until I’m ear level, feeling Jasper quivering uncontrollably under my fingers.
“Say fuck you to your brother from me,” I whisper darkly. Not waiting for an answer, I pull up, and gripping his face tighter, I yank my arm back and give a firm tug. His neck twists. The death-announcing crack rings out in the room, and a sense of peace and fairness washes over me.
Because it’s done. It really is. Loretta, Norman, and Malcom can finally rest in peace.
“Are you okay?” Ramiel reaches me as soon as I let go of Jasper. His hand finds mine and starts the stroking. I don’t mind the blood on his fingers or mine. I press my forehead to his and take a big gulp of his fresh scent.
