Page 19 of Savage Keepsakes

“Is she gonna be okay?” He clasps his hands together in his lap after buckling himself in.

“In time, but you won’t be.”

I grin as I pull my arm back and slam the hard metal into the side of his head.

Miles slumps over, and I glance around, making sure no one witnessed me. Tearing out of the parking garage, I drive to the shop.

I get onto my road. Giddiness fills me. I’ve been eager for this night.

Once I pull into the laneway, I drive to the back and park behind the shop. I bounce out of the car, full of energy.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I grin when I see her name.

“Hey, darlin’, you okay?”

“Yeah, I got up to get a drink of water. Miles sent me a bunch of threatening text messages. Doesn’t he know between him and his mother’s bullshit, I’ve had enough?”

“What’d his mother do?” This is news to me, but if she’s harmed Lucy, then I will have no choice but to send some tough love her way as well.

“She’s always disrespected me. During our entirerelationship, she body-shamed me. I’ve never been enough for her precious Miles.” Lucy’s voice tightens.

I clench the phone and pace the driveway. Keeping a lookout for Miles waking up, anger runs through my veins. I’d love to hunt his cunt mother down.

“He’s a waste of space. We know this. It’ll be alright, Lou. Block his ass. He doesn’t deserve another minute of your time.”

A deep sigh comes through the phone. “Will you come back? Did you really mean it earlier when you said you’d help with the house?”

Her gentle voice, filled with sleep, moves something in the depths of my chest.

“Of course. Now, make sure you get enough sleep because when I come to help, you’ll learn everything right alongside me.”

“Got it, back to sleep, I go.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Now sleep, darlin’,” I whisper before hanging up.

Miles is still knocked out, and when I nudge his chin, he doesn’t stir.

I unlock the door to the shop, pull out tools, and plug in the grill. Once I’ve got the pulley system ready, I rub my hands together before checking on him again. He’s disorientated and groggy, which will be easier for me to get him into the shop.

With a firm grip on his arm, I pull him along the dusty path leading to my workshop. My arm around his back, we buddy-walk through the back door.

He shuffles, struggling to navigate through the entrance and collapses onto the cold, tiled floor. Fucking pansy. He hasn’t even put up a fight.

I clench my teeth, needing to hold the rage within to reach the beautiful revenge I have planned.

I turn on the music and then start tying his arms together. Reaching for the cables on the pulley system, I hoist him off the ground by his upper body.

Using my trusty scissors, I remove his hoodie and sever the band on his sweats. After a few minutes, Miles jerks his head up and blinks rapidly.

Once his eyes focus on his surroundings, he fights against the restraints. Standing in the middle of the room, his back facing the wall, I wait for the inevitable scream.

His lips tremble for a minute before he yells: “What the fuck! Where are my clothes?”

I take hold of the scalpel, its smooth handle fitting in the palm of my hand. The coolness brings peace to my mind and I stalk closer to him.

We are mere inches apart, his hot breath on my skin. I can’t help but drag the blade across his arm.

His flesh is a clean canvas and I’ll enjoy skinning him for the only use he has left.

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