Page 165 of Cain
Wade is up and points a gun to her head again.
“If you touch her?—”
“I already did, boy. Now kneel,” he growls, blood dripping from his thigh.
“Cain, no,” she sobs.
“Shut up!” he shouts, slapping her hard.
“You fucking coward!” I roar, lunging at him. Two of his men grab my arms, but I repel them. “I will end you and bury your fucking headless corpse right next toyour beloved son’s.” Four men now grab me, keeping me in place. “You’re nothing. You’re fucking nothing!”
The others have seized Judas and Adam.
“You’ve dropped low, boy. Letting this little cunt wrap you around her finger, running behind her skirts? That’s just fucking pathetic.”
“Fightme, you fucking coward!” I roar.
“Kneel. To. Me.”
I try to escape their grip, but they seize me again, hold my wrists crossed behind my back, and secure them tightly with duct tape.
One of them tackles the backs of my knees, forcing me to do as my father asks.
“That’s more like it, isn’t it?” Wade mocks. “Oh, I figured … why should you just hear her die? It seems a bit impersonal. This time, you’ll get the full show, front-row seat and all.”
He chuckles, tucking her hair behind her shoulder. I try to escape, but they push me down again.
“But there’s no need to rush. Let’s have ourselves a little fun first. She’s still breathing, after all.”
He smiles like it’s a joke. Like the whole thing’s a goddamn game.
“Don’t look so sour, boy. You used to have a stomach for this.”
“Jdi do prdele, ty zkurvenej hajzle!”
He slaps her again. “I said, shut up,” he says calmly.
I watch his hand crack across her face again, and something in me goes rabid. I’m trembling from the pure, volcanic need to butcher this fuck.
My mind’s already dissecting him, like he’s meat on a hook.
“I’ll snap your arms like twigs and shove them down your throat.” My wrists hurt from the pressure of trying to break free. I’ll rip his fucking face off.
He takes the knife and drags it along her thighs. Along the scar I gave her.
“This one doesn’t look deep enough,” he jeers.
“Jsi jen ubohej srác!” she curses.
He grabs her face and jams her cheeks together. “Say that in English, honey.”
She breathes heavily through her nostrils and clenches her jaw. “I said …you’re just a pathetic piece of shit.” She spits in his face.
He doesn’t move, just chuckles, wide and slow, eyes locked on hers. He wipes the spit off, then, in one sharp, sudden motion, grabs a fistful of her hair.
He’s fucking hurting her.
“Get your fucking hands off my girl!”
