Page 67 of The Devils Melody
“Kage…” I croak, not able to hide the fear in my voice.
He’s serious now, all amusement in his voice is long gone. “Wren. Where are you?”
My voice cracks as I stare back to the blood on the stairs. “H-Home.”
23
Kage
THE EXECUTIONER
Kevin is one slippery son of a bitch.
Jimmy wasn’t kidding when he said this one would be hard to find. We’ve been tracking this guy down all night and somehow he managed to stay two steps ahead. The bastard was good at hiding, but not good enough. They never are.
Finding him was the hard part, we finally managed to corner him in one of the abandoned warehouses near Marina Del Rey. Should have known the fucker would be hiding out close to the docks. Easier to traffic the kids, not to mention it’s a quick getaway with the airport being right there.
Jimmy could have told us that Kevin was a big backed bitch, though. Nox and I aren’t small guys, but Kevin is definitely larger than we are. Don’t get me wrong, I like to be thrown around a little but the second this motherfucker hit the money maker, it was fucking over. While Kevin was busy trying to choke Nox out, I found the folding chair that Mr. Gibson is now strapped to and gave him a few love taps to the back of his fucking skull. He was out like a light. Ittook both of us to hikeAndre the Gianthere into the chair and get him all tied up like a thanksgiving turkey I’d like to carve into.
We weren’t expecting Kevin to be so big, so we had to get a little creative with how we strapped him down. After several zip ties, a little bit of rope, and an entire roll of duct tape later, we finally feel like we have him securely in place. If he gets out of this, I don’t know what we’re going to do other than kill him on the spot. He may have size on his side, but a bullet between the eyes will always do the trick.
“He’s still asleep,” Lennox points out the obvious and I narrow my eyes at him, curling my lip in annoyance. Does he think I’m fucking blind?
“You don’t say?” I give Kevin a nice slap to the cheek but it does nothing to wake him.
“It’s gonna take more than just a little smack to wake him up after you beat him to a pulp with the chair. The dude is practically an ogre.”
“I didn’t beat him to a pulp, he’s barely bleeding. And you’re fucking welcome for saving you. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be in the beginning stages of rigor mortis right now.”
The look Nox gives me is one of indignation as I light a cigarette and blow the smoke in his face. “I didn’t need your help, asshole. I had him. And if you’re gonna blow smoke in my face, the least you can do is give me a drag.”
I’m not giving him a fucking drag, he barely even smokes. Unless he’s plastered out of his damn mind or stressed the fuck out. Even then, I’ve only ever seen him smoke a handful of times. The fact that he’s even asking me for a drag leads me to believe that our little debacle is still eating at him. Or maybe it’s because of his brush with death. Whatever.
“Oh yeah, it sure looked like you did. I didn’t knowkicking your feet and slapping his arms was you ‘having it’,” I deadpan, throwing up air quotes with my fingers, the cigarette resting between my lips. “And get your own fucking cigarettes.”
I can tell it’s taking everything in Nox not to knock my ass out right now, but seriously fuck him for being such an asshole after I saved his ass. Honestly, fuck him for being an asshole this whole day. The tension has been high since the moment I picked him up.
As soon as he got on the back of my bike, I could tell he gave into his feelings, even if only for that short trip to grab his bike. His arms were wrapped tight around me, his head resting on my shoulder, and all I could think about was the venom he spewed at me just minutes prior. He hasn’t apologized, and maybe he never will. That’s just the kind of shit you sign up for when choosing to be with Nox. Motherfucker can never admit when he’s wrong.
After Nox and I picked up his bike, we swung back to the house to get the murder wagon. It’s kind of hard to sneak up on someone on loud ass motorcycles. The wagon just made more sense. The entire drive here was awkward as fuck. Neither of us wanted to talk to the other. Nox has clearly been at war with himself, but I’m still too pissed off to care.
“Will you just move so I can wake him up?” he groans impatiently, bumping into my shoulder to move me out of the way. Before I could protest, Nox is cocking his arm back, putting all of his weight and anger into the most brutal fucking blow he could manage. A hit like that would have probably killed almost anyone else, but Kevin here just jerks awake violently, thrashing around in his chair like a fish out of water.
I’d say he’s going to feel that in the morning, but poor guy isn’t going to make it that long.
“Good morning, sunshine. How was your little nappy nap?” I smile at the scary mother fucker in the chair but he doesn’t look too happy with us.
Kevin hawks a loogie of blood at my shirt, and suddenly I’m not too happy with him either. Pulling the butterfly knife out of my boot, I twirl the instrument in my hand, the glint of the blade catching Kevin's attention before I grip the handle and run the blade through his right shoulder.
Kevin grunts in pain, a low howl escaping him.
“That wasn’t very nice, big guy,” I spit through my teeth, pulling the blade out and cleaning it off with my pant leg. “We’ve got a few questions for you and we’re gonna need you to answer them. The first one is where the fuck did you get the audacity to do that just now?” Looking at him with my crazy eyes, he growls back at me and it takes everything in me not to laugh. He’s like a pitbull chained to a tree.
“The second is, do you know a guy by the name of Richard?”
“I’m not telling you shit,” Kevin answers in the most high pitched, child-like sounding voice I’ve ever heard. Nox and I look at each other and before we could even say anything, we’re both doubled over laughing so hard we can barely breathe.
“Kevin! What happened to your voice?” I try to spit out between gasping breaths. Nox literally has tears in his eyes, he’s laughing so hard. “Did the steroids not make it to your voicebox?”
