Page 62 of Revenge of a Queen

“I don’t understand,” he exclaims, and he is back to stuttering, I roll my eyes.

“Of course, you don’t. Did you think you could protect him forever? That your crimes would go unnoticed alongside his?” my voice is calm, but my heartbeat is so erratic, I wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the room could hear it.

“Who?” he starts but my temper breaks slightly, cutting him off.

“Elliot fucking Donovan,” I grit through my teeth with a smile. I don’t want to play any games with him, “The devil who lines your pockets, so you keep his darkness hidden. You know the girls he rapes, the drugs he runs, the guns he sells.” I take a step forward, my voice getting louder, “Ring any fucking bells?”

He flinches at my tone but still tries to force some bravado into the situation he finds himself in. “This isn’t a game you want to play, little girl,” he sneers, and I laugh. A full head thrown back, belly laugh. This fucking moron.

I move until he will be able to feel my breath on his face as I talk, “You’re right, this isn’t a game.” I grin as I lean in further until my mouth is at his ear, “This is war, and you picked the wrong fucking side.”

He doesn’t notice the gun until the bullet shatters his kneecap. My silencer muffled the sound of the shot, but not his screams of pain. No, those I devour.

“You shot me, you fucking little slut,” he splutters, stating the obvious as I step back and watch the blood pulse from his leg.

“Here is how things are going to go,” I say, gesturing wildly with the gun. “You will answer my questions to my satisfaction, or you will find out how fucking creative I can really be with a man’s body,” I shrug, willing him to underestimate my skill set, so I can really make him pay.

His breaths are coming quick and fast as he pants through the pain with a groan. He looks at me with pure disdain, “Fuck you,” he spits at me and I gleam with appreciation.

I shake my head with another laugh, “Wrong answer, Steven,” I move before he can even register my next action, when my knuckle dusted fist connects with his face, I hear the crack of his cheek.

“Fuckkkkk!” He yells out, as tears start to stream from his eyes. “You can’t do this to me, you fucking little cunt, I am the Captain of police, the law of this town,” he seethes at me through gritted teeth.

“Oh yes, the high and mighty, untouchable aptain Baizen,” I drawl sarcastically before I look down at him, “How the mighty have fallen.”

I move towards the table at the side to assess the weapons I have laid out there. Time for some fun. I pluck some pliers first and twist them over in my hands to inspect them. Perfect.

I turn back to my prey and move until I am right in front of him again, “Let’s try this again, shall we?” I smile as I slip the pliers around one of his fingers. “Tell me what Elliot Donovan knows about me?”

His focus is on his captured finger and his hesitation makes me angry, he still isn’t taking me seriously. I take great pleasure in the crunching of his finger as I force the pliers together. His finger falls to the floor as he screams out in pain again.

I hear one of the guys mutter a ‘fuck’ under their breath while another laughs, but Steven doesn’t seem to hear anything over his screams. I block them out too. I appreciate having them here with me, but they are connected to a side of me that I can’t bring into this room right now. I watch the blood pour from his hand with mild satisfaction, as he tries to control his breathing and ignore the pain, but I can tell by how white he is, that he is failing. We can’t have that.

“Shoot him, Lo,” I toss over his shoulder to Logan and he steps forward without hesitation and plunges another syringe into his neck, only this time it is filled with adrenaline. That will keep his blood pumping and his heart beating.

I line the pliers up onto another finger ready for my question, “I’ll ask again, tell me what Elliot knows.”

He is panting hard but grits his teeth “He, he knows you’re back. That you’ve got someone after him. That you are with the Rebels,” he pants more trying to get his words out quickly. “He thinks you are using them to get to him, that's why he went after them,” he is so breathless that he sounds like he just ran a marathon.

“And what about Asher?” I push him applying pressure to the pliers.

“What about him?” he yells, frantically trying to pull his finger away, when all it does is increase the hold against the tool in my hand. I look over his shoulder into the darkness and nod. Asher steps out of the shadows and walks to my side and Baizen’s eyes go as wide as saucers.

“No, no way,” he stutters over his words. “He’s with you?” He asks in utter shock that only makes me happier.

Ash slides his fingers into my free hand until they are entangled together not caring about the blood on my gloves. “Always,” his tone is firm and dark, leaving no question to his loyalty.

Asher turns from him to look at me, “He’s a useless sack of shit, let's euthanize him,” his emotionless voice fills the room without faltering and I smile at him. This is a dark path we forced ourselves on and he has been with me since the very beginning.

“Let’s play with him a little first,” I reply with a gleaming smile as I snap the pliers for a second time and let another finger fall from his hand.

Ash and I use a number of tools to experiment effective ways to make our Captain of police bleed until apparently, he can’t take anymore.

“Enough,” he cries, “Please stop, enough!” He begs but his pleas mean nothing to me.

“Did you stop?” I question him, bending down until I’m at his eye level. “When those boys begged you to leave them alone, did you stop? When those girls came and reported heinous crimes committed by your friends, did you stop?” My tone is laced with anger but unwavering as I speak, “No you didn’t, you raped them, tortured them, and then covered it up just like your sick band of friends. Do you even remember any of them?” I ask gesturing to the pictures that cover the walls, “Their names? Their families? Do you remember fucking any of them? Lord, how I wish they could see you now, covered in blood, and drenched in your own piss, not so fucking tough now are you, not untouchable anymore? No, now you’re just a fucking rapist who is finally getting the justice you deserve.”

“Dad,” Damien's voice splutters behind me and I spin to find him looking utterly shocked behind me, as his gaze bounces rapidly around the room. He looks between his dad and the pictures and then throws up on himself.

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