Page 66 of Was I Ever Here

“That’s strange,” he simply says, his body relaxing behind me as his hand slowly wraps around my neck. My heartbeat ramps up while his thumb strokes the column of my throat

I can tell he’s trying to distract me again. And fortunately for him it’s working, my mind losing its train of thought as I feel Byzantine growing hard against my back, his free hand nestling between my legs. My body turns liquid as I sigh into him and forget all about the dream.

Chapter 36

Byzantine

I’mbackinConnor’sbasement. I haven’t been down here since Gary.

Fucking Gary.

I still hate him. But maybe just a little less now. How that fucking rodent was the reason I found Sunny I still have trouble wrapping my head around. How the hell was he the catalyst for the worst and best thing to ever happen to me.

Regardless, he deserved to die and I won’t ever regret it.

I also won’t feel sorry for ending the life of the fucker sitting in front of me either. The one who thought he could threaten Sunny and live.

No, this one I’ll even relish.

It only took Bastian a few days to find the mugger. He hacked into the city’s surveillance cameras and found footage of him fleeing the scene. That, paired with Sunny’s description was enough for our favorite hacker to track him down.

Now the loser’s here, duct taped to a chair, squealing like a trapped pig, while I approach him with my favorite switchblade.

“P—please,” he sputters, his greasy hair covering half his bloodied face. “The gun wasn’t even loaded man, please, I just needed some cash, I wasn’t going to hurt her, Iswear,” he blubbers some more, rambling on like his bullshit story will give me a sudden change of heart.

I stop in front of the chair, glaring at him and smile. A smile taken from Connor’s arsenal, cold, flat—unhinged.

“Makes no difference. You were dead the second you touched her,” I state flatly.

My answer unnerves him and he thrashes against the chair, yelping for someone to save him. His voice is shrill and pierces the room. It makes me want to cut his tongue out just for that alone.

Actually—that’s a good idea.

“There’s no point in yelling. No one is coming to save you buddy,” I drawl, a bored nonchalance to my tone, kicking his chair over. That shocks him into shutting up. If only for a few seconds.

I pick up the pliers from the stainless steel table near us. He continues to snivel while I place my feet on each side of his head and crouch down. Resting the switchblade beside us, I grab him by the cheeks, squeezing them hard and forcing his mouth open. I salivate at the sight of the pure terror in his eyes, eager to burn him with it like a hot brand to the skin.

I shove the pliers into his mouth and after a few slippery attempts I finally snag his tongue between the pincers and yank it out of his mouth. He’s full blown sobbing by now. Like I give a fuck. I reach for the knife and without any preamble I begin to cut through the muscle. It’s not easy, but I manage, luckily the blade is serrated. His screams grow even louder as he gargles and chokes on his own blood running down his throat.

“Jesus Christ, brother. What are you doing to him?” The voice behind me says. I don’t need to turn around to know it’s Connor.

Ignoring him, I finally rip through the final piece of this fucker’s tongue while he suddenly falls silent and passes out. At least it’s nice and quiet now. Then, I shove his tongue back into his mouth and duct tape it shut.

“Damn…that’s pretty fucking gruesome even for me,” Connor says with a laugh.

“What do you want?” I bark, annoyed as I haul the chair upright, the mugger’s sweaty head flopping over his chest.

“Just wanted to see if you wanted some company,” he chirps.

I turn to face him, the switchblade still wet and dripping blood onto the plastic tarp under my boots.

“Really?” I answer, staring at him like he’s the dumbest person alive. And maybe he is.

He shrugs, bare chested and wearing swim trunks for fuck sakes.

“I was bored,” he replies, flashing me a smile. “Want to have a drink poolside?”

I’m about to tell him to fuck right off and let me finish the job but then I look at this guy’s lolling head and decide against it. Let him wake up and remember what I just did to him. Let him understand the length I’ll go to protect Sunny. Just the thought gives me a sick sense of justice. I wipe the knife with a rag and grin back at Connor, “Sure.”

---