“You should’ve never come here. You should’ve left it alone.”
“You know you can’t do shit to me, right?We’re still fucking married. You touch me, and everyone will think Jules was involved.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” I crossed my arms and glared at him as I explained, “You signed those divorce papers over a week ago.”
“That’s bullshit! I haven’t signed a goddamn thing!”
“Wrong again,” I snarled. “The papers were notarized and sent into the courts. It’s done, and so are you.”
“You’ll never get away with this!”
“I already have.”
“You no-good piece of shit! You deserve each other!”
“I’ll tell you what you deserve...” I held up Jules’s medical file and said, “You deserve a taste of your own medicine.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Let me explain it in a way you’ll understand.”
Clutch and Smokey went over and bound his hands and positioned him on one of Stitch’s hooks. Once he was secured, I walked over and picked up one of Stitch’s sledgehammers, then carried it back over to James. “Whoa! Hold on! What are you going to do with that?”
“Remember the time you broke Jules’s ankle?”
I didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, I lifted the hammer and slammed it into the side of his foot, crushing his ankle. He immediately started wailing, “Oh, God! Motherfucker. You fucking piece of shit!”
“See, I was just going to put a fucking bullet in your head and be done with you.” I swung the hammer back and forth, taunting him as I explained, “But then, I had a change of heart. I thought it was only fair that you get to experience all the pain you inflicted on Jules. I’m gonna break every bone that you broke of hers, give you every concussion you gave her, every laceration, and even give your spleen a run for its money. If you’re able to survive that, then we’ll let you go, and you can carry on with your sad, little life.”
“You’re doing this over that fucking whore?”
The words had barely left his mouth when I slammed the sledgehammer into his side. I didn’t give him a chance to recover before I hit him again and again. And keeping true to my word, I broke every bone that he’d broken of hers. Then, I beat the ever-loving hell out of him, making sure to leave him with a concussion of all concussions.
He was barely hanging on when I started cutting away at his flesh, leaving lacerations in the exact location where he’d left them on Jules. By the time I was done, he was completely unconscious and barely breathing. I took a step back, and bile rose to the back of my throat when I saw the state he was in—not because he was barely hanging on, but because he’d done all those things to Jules.
It was that thought that had me going over to him once more. I took the knife in my hand and jabbed it deep in his side, severing his liver; then I put my mouth to his ear and whispered, “Rot in hell, asshole.”
I dropped the knife on the floor, then walked out of the room, leaving him there to die. I remembered Jules telling me that she didn’t think he deserved to die for what he’d done, but I disagreed. There was no redemption for a man like him, and clearly, my brothers agreed.
As soon as we were out in the hall, Stitch came over to me and asked, “You good?”
“Been better.”
“It might not feel like it, but you did the right thing.” I’d heard some of the horror stories Stitch had told about his youth and his grandfather, so I didn’t question him when he said, “A man like him never changes. Trust me. I know that better than anyone.”
“Yeah, I know, but killing him didn’t change anything. It didn’t take away what he’d done.”
“No, but now, he won’t be able to hurt anyone else.”
“This is true.”
“Why don’t you go take a shower and meet us in the bar? You look like you could use a beer.”
“Yeah, a beer would be good, but I think I’m just gonna call it a day and head home.”
“Thought so.” He gave me a brotherly pat, then said, “Get some rest, and we’ll see ya tomorrow.”
“What about him?”