Page 107 of In the Light of Sin

Like Joslyn was.

That thought alone made the very monster I thought I was rise to the surface. My fists were itching to knock someone the fuck out and show them what torture techniques were used on me overseas. There was someone in the closet of the living room, strewing everything out at a rapid pace, his anxiety making his breaths come out heavy.

I jumped behind him. My elbow landed on his shoulder and my right forearm went around his neck before pulling back. His pathetic attempt to get me off of him didn’t do shit as one of my hands gripped his chin, the other his forehead before giving a hard twist. The cracking of his neck echoed by the way I discarded his body on the floor as I made my way to Joslyn’s childhood bedroom. If anyone attacked me, they’d share the same fate.

My mind was focused on one thing. Revenge for Joslyn.

He was sitting on the bed, hands behind him as his fingers were splayed on the floral bedspread. He looked way too casual, way too knowing. I knew it was Douglas. The night Joslyn told me about him, I looked him up and wasn’t surprised to see a long list of only petty crimes. Besides a few thefts, he was an upstanding citizen. I’d remedy that real fucking quick with his head lying at my girl’s feet. “You.”

His hair was dark, shoulder-length, and greasy. His thick strapped white tank top and baggy denim jeans that were halfway down his scrawny ass exposed his black boxers. He didn’t look scared, more like he was expecting this. The fucker even smirked at me, holding up his right hand and waving at me. I wanted to blow the appendage off his useless body.

“May I help you?” His voice was calm, his eyebrow cocked in the air. His yellow-stained teeth showed with his lips pulled back cockily.

I refused to give him any more time than necessary. “You know why I’m here.”

He stood. He was tall, skinny, and had graying skin. His forearm was riddled with track marks, leaving behind new and old scars. He stood with me chest to chest, and he may have been tall, but not as tall as I was. He still had to crane his neck to look at me, and it took all my restraint not to kill him right now when he was giving me the opportunity. “Do I?”

He was grating my fucking nerves. A growl ripped from my throat, lifting my leg and delivering a devastating blow to his gut that had him bending over in breathless pain. I couldn’t control myself as I grabbed him by his oily hair and threw his face directly into the ground, hearing a distinctive crunch of his nose breaking on contact.

Crouching down, I gripped his hair, pulling out a chunk from his skull, which had him hissing. He was breathing heavily, teeth clenched together as he tried his best to breathe through the pain. But I knew he was fucking hurting. It was nothing compared to what was going to happen to him next. His eyes flicked with something when I twisted his hair in my grip.

Fear.

For the first time since I walked in the door, he looked scared. I wanted him to remember my face. I pulled down my hood, his eyes widening when he saw my scars. He won’t forget them. My lips pulled into a crazed grin, my mind completely blank with everything other than causing this man as much pain as I possibly could. “You do.”

I leaned my head back before snapping forward into Douglas’, our foreheads slamming together with enough force that his eyes closed and his body went slack. He wasn’t dead, just knocked out and would wake with hopefully the worst headache of his life. I would feel mine later; there was too much adrenaline running through my veins to feel anything but my hunger for this man’s blood spilling on the ground.

I dropped his unconscious body to the ground, grabbing him by his pant leg before walking out of Joslyn’s parents’ home with the dead weight being dragged behind me. I made sure to run into some things, satisfaction filling me when he groaned unconsciously when his head bumped into the sharp corner of the door, leaving a small trail of blood in its wake.

He hasn’t even begun to bleed yet.

* * *

The door clicked behind me as I turned on the light, eying my prey. I wish I could’ve chained him to the back of my bike and dragged him all the way to the clubhouse. But I wouldn’t let his filth touch my bike or my Cadillac. Joslyn loved those, and his touch wouldn’t take anything she loved. He deserved a horrible death, but he needed a fitting one.

Instead, I borrowed an old junker from Husk. He loved to collect this type of shit, with the promise of burning it or hitting someone he hated when I was done with it. I was just thankful Douglas didn’t suffocate in the trunk on the way to the clubhouse.

My footsteps echoed off the brick walls as I walked towards his body, which was suspended from the thick chain link pushed through the palm of his hand. I pulled my knife out of my pocket, putting it up to his filthy cheek as I dragged the blade along the cheekbone, him hissing, still unconscious, as blood trickled from the fresh cut. He woke up in confusion before clarification shone in his eyes.

“Well, well, well,” he chimed, his greasy, shoulder-length hair caked in dried blood falling to the side. “Finally gonna kill me?”

“Death is too easy for you.” He deserved more. He deserved a purgatory that never ended, death staring him right in the face as he was hopeful of a reprieve, only to suffer again.

And again.

He laughed. A belly one that raised the hair on my arms and pissed me the fuck off. He shouldn’t be laughing. I was tempted to cut those vocal chords, but I wanted to hear his wails of unanswered cries. “I know who you are.” I wasn’t playing this game. I stood there with my face shielded in the veil of my hood as I waited for his answer. Or not, I didn’t fucking care. “Joslyn’s your new fuck toy.”

It took everything in me not to jump on the chance to feel his neck snap under my grip. “I’m not goin’ to bite with whatever bullshit your spewin’.”

“Just the truth.” He shrugged, chains rattling with the movement. His eyes flicked to my polished blade. “She’s a good fuck, isn’t she? I was addicted to her pussy—“

My fist acted on its own. I didn’t register that I hit him until his tooth went flying onto the floor. I didn’t even notice my fists shaking, trying to hang on to my last bit of control. My entire body began to quake as I looked at him through hooded eyes.

He smiled as blood pushed past his closed mouth. His skin became more clammy. His eyes becoming more glassy… fuck. That laugh of his.

Did he laugh at her while he hurt her over and over? My throat burned from a raspy growl that escaped when I delivered another blow. My knuckles busted open at the force of the punch. Even through his pained groans, he made sure he continued to laugh. The temptation to cut his vocal cords was at the forefront of my mind. “Defensive over a used-up bitch, ain’tcha? You mad I fucked her first?” Another fist slammed into his cheek, my knuckles throbbing at the impact. I wanted to pull every tooth one by one, making him bleed out, but that would be too easy of a death just choking on his own blood.

“Hey, Darin.” My blood froze at his taunt. How the fuck did he know my name? “Before you kill me, do me a favor? Ask your precious President what really happened with Dagger and Hollow.”

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