Page 56 of Bought By Santa

He flinches away, straining against the bindings at his wrists and ankles. It’s a pitiful sight, this creature who dared to encroach on my territory. Who dared to lay hands upon my queen.

“Why did you touch her?” I demand, my voice rumbling with contained fury.

“I-I—” he stammers.

Running out of patience, I silence him with a fist to his face. The sound of my knuckles connecting with his nose echoes in the dark silence.

“Answer me,” I say, every syllable a threat of more violence to come.

“I d-didn’t know!” he cries out, tears welling in his eyes. “I swear, I didn’t know she was yours! I don’t even know who you are.”

The last part I believe, that he didn’t know who I am is more likely than not having noticed Carolina arrived with me. “And do you know now?”

He shakes his head, shouting when I punch him again, and again, and a-fucking-gain.

“Oh, God… p-please,” he whines, but his pleas only fan the flames of my wrath.

Pausing, I answer him. “Not God. Knight,” I growl.

Then I continue to punch him; his nose and jaw break under my furious punches, but I don’t stop—I can’t stop. The basement echoes with the sickening crunch of retribution and the man’s guttural cries as I mete out justice for the insult to what is mine.

For the next several hours, I extract my vengeance, every crack of bone, every whimper of agony a balm to my raging beast. He’s gasping for breath, his eyes begging for mercy that will never come his way. His cries echo in the silence, a fitting soundtrack to the bloody tableau we’ve become.

When I’m no longer satisfied using my fists, I pause long enough to get clippers. I don’t pay any attention as I shove every finger on the offending hand through the holes of the custom-built contraption, or when I use all my strength to sever the digits from his hand.

He screams and thrashes. His eyes rolling back into his head before he passes out. For fuck’s sake.

“Marco!” I bark, and when he joins me, he’s quick to hold the smelling salt under the guy’s nose.

It takes longer than I’d like for the guy to come around, which tells me he’s almost at the end of his limit. What a fucking waste of space.

“Hey!” I bark, snapping my fingers in his face.

Due to his broken jaw, he can’t talk, which is probably for the best. I doubt his words would be more meaningful than the pitiful noises he makes.

“This is the end of the road for you,” I tell him, my tone completely devoid of emotion. “If there’s a next life, I hope you’ll remember how this one ended. Never touch something or someone that isn’t yours.”

I reach for the gun Marco’s holding, and after activating the silencer and removing the safety, I lift it, pointing it straight at his head.

“See you in the next life, motherfucker.” With those words, I pull the trigger.

His body jerks, but there’s no doubt he’s dead.

“Damn,” Marco whistles as he looks down at the mess I’ve made. “Guess I need to be careful about offering a hand to the future Mrs. Knight.”

I grin at him. “As long as you offer first, we’re good, my friend.”

I instruct Marco to dispose of the broken body, and as always, he’s a step ahead of me. “Cleanup will be here within the hour. I’ll make sure they’re thorough.”

With a sharp nod, I pull my phone out to see if there’s any news from Jack. There isn’t. Although I know I should keep my head in the game and check in, I bid Marco goodnight and return to the sanctuary I share with Carolina, and after a shower, I crawl into bed, finding she hasn’t moved since I left her.

Chapter 20

The Breeder

I’m trembling slightly as I push Will toward the sterile white door with “Dr. Alan Hargrove” etched in sleek, black letters. It’s a stark contrast to the cluttered world outside, where Christmas decorations are sprouting like wildflowers.

“Chin up, Caro,” Willow says, her voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. “We’ve got this, right?”

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