Page 29 of Alexei (Belles & Mobsters 4)

Fuck him. Fuck Ivan.

The asshole above me smiled wider. He may have been almost thirty, but he fought like a boy my age, and I was half his age. His size was his only advantage against those of us younger than him. He thought beating boys so much younger was a victory.

I let all my rage out, ignoring the spots that built in my vision, almost blinding me to the man above me.

Anger flooded through me like hot lava, acidic and destructive.

He shoved the side of my face into the hard, compacted dirt floor of the fighting ring. So many boys had died here. Would my blank stare haunt someone like theirs haunted me?

Red overtook the black spots of my vision, pulling the rage to the forefront. I’d need it if I was to beat this motherfucker.

While my left hand remained on his wrist that was clutched at my neck, I put all my strength into my right arm and pushed a fist into his right kidney.

A yelp escaped him and his grip loosened just enough to give me an open window. Using my own body weight in his moment of hesitation, I shifted my legs beneath him, pushing him onto his side. My fist connected with his ribs, the crack of bones under my knuckles. It takes just over three thousand newtons of quick force to crack a rib.

I may not have gotten the same schooling as other kids, but I learned what I could about the human body. The right spots to strike to bring an attacker to their knees. The base of the neck, the kidneys, trachea, bladder, and of course the groin.

While I despised Ivan, he did give me the ability to learn what I could to become a killing machine. It was what he wanted us to become. Those of us he thought capable. Little did he know… he was creating his very own, personal grim reaper; because, in the end, I would be the one to take his life.

The asshole’s grip faltered, and before he could get the bright idea to choke me again, I broke his right wrist.

“You fucking little bitch,” he screamed, his body bent forward as he went down to his knees. Did he even realize he was the one screaming like a bitch?

From the corner of my eye, I saw someone throw a blade, but it didn't quite reach me. Whether it was purposely out of my reach or not, I needed it.

I jammed my knee into the devil’s back, hoping it broke his spine, pushing him forward, and reached for the knife. The moment I grabbed the handle, he lifted his left arm, raised to attack, and I took advantage. Jamming the knife deep into his armpit, I severed the artery that pumped blood to his cold, black heart.

I watched as his eyes widened, pain crossing his expression. It wasn’t enough. I would ensure today that Ivan’s devil ceased to exist.

Pulling the blade free from the artery, a geyser of blood followed, and I smiled as I pressed the tip of the blade just at the base of his neck, parallel to his chin, jamming it straight in. His gurgling sounds echoed through the dimly lit room as everyone remained quiet at the sight before them.

One way or another, I’d fucking extinguish every single fucking one of them. I’d leave Ivan for last, so he could tremble in the dark. Like the coward he was.

The devil’s soul drained from the asshole’s ugly face, his black teeth exposed.

But that wasn’t the most terrifying part.

It was that I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Maybe I’d become a monster too.

It had taken more than a minute for the pain radiating from my throat to register. I knew he’d almost succeeded in crushing my wind pipe.

For weeks after, I could barely speak without it causing pain. My vocal cords had been permanently damaged. But I found in the weeks of silence following… that I much rather preferred not speaking.

The girls whispering amongst themselves pulled me out of the memory. They debated back and forth, working on coming up with an amount they thought fair.

“Twenty dollars,” they both answered in unison.

Damn little blackmailers. Both extended their hands.

“For each of us,” Hannah added, tapping her foot impatiently.

I couldn’t fucking wait until these two grew up. Nico would have to put the entire police force on the payroll to keep them out of jail. I pulled out my wallet and handed them each a twenty dollar bill.

“Send me a picture with your dad’s safe unlocked, and I’ll give you a hundred dollars.” Both of their eyes bulged out. “Each,” I added.

“I can hack into Mom’s phone,” Arianna answered confidently. “I know her passcode,” she added in a hushed tone. “So if you see a picture from her phone, that is us.”

---