Page 108 of In the Light of Sin

I didn’t trust myself. I had to put an end to this fucker sooner than later, or I was going to end him with my fists, and that’s not what I intended. I turned away from him, making my way to a spot on the brick wall, pushing one in that opened a secret door. I felt his eyes on me as I collected a bag, its contents making it heavy. I returned in front of him, and he eyed the bag curiously, following my movements as I unzipped it before turning it upside down, multiple knives clattering onto the floor.

His throat bobbed.

Good.

I picked up a random knife, not flicking the blade out, instead running it along his sweaty skin. “Don’t got a lot to say now, do ya?” No answer as expected. I flicked the blade out, taking great pleasure at the hiss that escaped him when I pushed it into his rib. I bent down, picking up another one and giving the other side of his body the same treatment. His body began to quiver now, the knives in either side of his ribs painful but not enough to kill him. I grabbed the sides of my hood, exposing my face to him for the second time. “When you’re meeting the Devil, you’re going to prefer him to me. ”

I picked up another knife, pushing this one into his scrawny thigh. He yelped, eyes shutting tightly as his lips quivered. “Each stab for every time you touched what was mine.” My crazed voice sent fear into the waste of space’s nerves.

Joslyn told me it was too many times for her to count. Therefore, I’ve lost count of how many blades he’s receiving. “You’ll bleed out, just like you’ve made my girl do until she lost herself.” Another blade, this time, pierced his stomach. I gave it another push for good measure, ensuring it stayed in place so he didn’t bleed out quickly. “But I’m not letting you bleed out. You left her scars on the inside.”

Two more follow at the bottom of each foot. Then, two in each forearm. Too bad this fucker was so skinny, I couldn’t put as many as I wanted to in here. I was proud of my work. He was barely bleeding, only small droplets escaping where the blades cut through.

“I’m collecting the pieces of the girl you destroyed.” Another blade out of my pocket, another stab in his side. There was barely any room there now. “She’s rebuilding herself, one piece at a time.” I took the knife, taunting him by holding the blade close to his mouth. His gaze was unfocused, the internal bleeding already affecting him. “While you’re nothing but ashes soiling the ground, I’m gonna be buried deep inside her pussy. I’m the only man she’ll ever fuckin’ think about again.” The blade slipped past his lips. His screams filled the room as I curved the blade up his cheek, slicing the front corner of his lip to his upper cheek. I finished with the other side, impaling it in his chest. “She wanted to smile for others despite the pain you made her feel. I wanted you to smile too.”

Blood was oozing from his mangled face. He was weakening, his brown eyes dulling with each ragged breath he inhaled. I grabbed his chin, forcing his jaw open before grabbing a switchblade and pushing it through the muscle of his tongue.

This was it. The masterpiece I predicted. Douglas is in chains, with too many blades impaled in his body to count. One for each rape. One for each cry. One for each time Joslyn lost herself to his unwanted touch.

I walked up to him, my hands casually in my pockets like I didn’t just deliver this man a death sentence. He looked at me—glassy eyes that begged for death. I felt around in my back pocket, inwardly grinning when I felt a small bulge. I pulled it out, making sure he saw the blade before I pushed it in his right eye. He tried to scream, but he was too weak. He could cry all he wanted. No one was coming to save him.

I turned, walking out of the room, not sparing his dying body another glance. He would leave the world the same way he came in, bloody and alone. Opening the door, I closed it slowly behind me. Letting the click of the door be the last sound he heard beside his pleas for forgiveness and to make the pain stop.

His words got my mind going. How the fuck did he know about Hollow and Dagger? They were both long gone. One dead, one rogue. No one from the Bloods or the Flock should know who they were. Prez did everything he could to erase their memory from everyone but us.

I stilled as a realization hit me. One that I was too blinded by my need for his death to notice at first.

He wanted me to kill him. But why?

I started to move again, my steps more hurried. I needed answers.

And Prez was going to give them to me.

* * *

I was still covered in his blood as I made my way to Prez’s office. I didn’t want a shower to delay this conversation. I heard shouts on the other side but couldn’t make out the words. With my one-track mind, I kicked open the door of his newly furnished office. He sat there, elbows on the table, hands folded and covering his mouth.

A furious Victoria is in front of his desk. Her orange-colored hair frizzed, her shoulders heaving with anger as her french-tipped acrylic nails dug into her tanned skin. Their attention turned to me. Prez’s face was calm, almost expectant of me to barge in here without his permission. Victoria’s eyes were on fire, fighting for something we all knew she wanted, but he refused to give it to her. Her cheek sunk in, teeth biting the inside.

“If you keep this up, Darrell.” She was trying to remain composed, but the tremble in her voice was giving her away. “You’ll lose everyone.”

He leaned in his chair, bending backward with his weight, looking emotionless at her. A stare that was becoming more common with him. “I don’t want anyone.”

“What about Nyla?” Her voice quivered. “What about me?”

“What about you?” His eyes shifted to her coldly. “Don’t know what you’re gettin’ on about, Vic. Never promised you a fuckin’ thing from me except food, shelter, and a job. That’s your own fuckin’ fault for havin’ a hero complex with me.” His hands smacked against his desk standing as he shouted angrily at her, “I’m not your damn savior. Stop treating me like I am!”

“You’re not my hero, Darrell.” Her tanned skin tinted red, fury flaming her cheeks as she lashed out at him. “You’re turnin’ into someone I wish I never fuckin’ met.”

Oh fuck.I thought as she turned on her heel, trying not to shed tears. Not because she was sad, she was so fucking mad she could barely contain herself. It was just the two of us, Prez’s eyes still staring at the door Victoria walked out of before sighing heavily and slouching back in his chair. He looked well above his forty years of age, gray peppering in his black hair. Without opening his eyes, he asked, “He gone?”

I got straight to the point, beyond done with his bullshit. “What happened to Dagger and Hollow?”

“You know as much as I do.” He was way too calm. His words sounded practiced, no emotion lacing them. “Dagger offed himself. Hollow took off.”

“I don’t fuckin’ believe you.” I slammed my hands on his desk, making the thing jump in the air, and his coffee mug shatter on the floor. “Douglas knew my real name, somethin’ only you and Joslyn know. He told me to ask you what happened to them. How the fuck would he know who they are?” He didn’t answer, the already thin thread of loyalty I had for him snapping. “You’re not bein’ truthful, and every fuckin’ brother here knows you’re not.”

“Be careful with who you trust, Sarge.” He stood slowly, arms behind his back, as he walked around to the front of his desk. His steps were deafening, but I’ve never been intimidated by him, and I wasn’t gonna start now. “You’ve changed.”

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