Page 86 of Death

My lips curve up in a smile. “Welcome. Please make yourself at home. We’re going to spend a lot of time together.”

“What do you want with me?” he asks, looking like he’s about to shit himself. “Who are you people?”

I pull the tarot card out of my pocket and flip it from my index finger to my pinky. His gaze snaps to my hand as I keep flipping the card.

“I’m Santiago Castro.” I hold the card up so he can see it. “And you have a date with Death.”

“W-what?” he stutters, his body wound tight as he remains slightly crouched over with his hands out in front of him.

The smile fades from my face and remembering the fear on Ciara’s face, the way she hid in the fucking trunk, her panic attacks because she was terrified to wipe herself after using the toilet, I level Nolan with a ruthless glare.

“I’m going to enjoy killing you.” The words are filled with vengeance and dripping with merciless brutality.

“I don’t even know you!” the fucker cries. “You have the wrong man.” He shifts his feet, moving in a half circle as his eyes dart wildly around the room. Then he notices the table with the tools, and he turns even paler. “M-my name is N-Nolan Walsh. You have t-the wrong m-man.”

I slowly walk closer to him, and it has him backtracking until he hits a wall behind him. My arm shoots out, and gripping his neck, I slam his head into the plaster.

With my face inches from his, I can smell his fear.

“It took her two weeks before she was brave enough to leave the hospital room. It took her three and a half weeks to sleep in abed. It took her a month to interact with another person without having a panic attack.”

His fear intensifies, and worry creeps into his eyes, as he squeezes the word out, “W-who?”

Letting go of his neck, I take a step back while a dark chuckle rumbles from me. “Ciara.” I throw the card against his chest. “She chose this card specifically for you.” I watch as he realizes just how fucked he truly is. “She gave me a message to give to you.”

His breaths are audible over his lips, and I can just imagine how fast his heart is beating.

“She belongs to me.”

Ciara was right, it hits him square in the fucking gut and his head snaps back, a crazed look flitting over his face before the fear returns.

“For her birthday she kissed me willingly, and I fucking made her moan. I didn’t have to take shit from her. She gave it freely.”

This time the crazed expression tightens his features, and the fucker actually tries to stare me down.

“Ciara loves sleeping in my arms because it’s the only fucking place she feels safe. She touches me every single chance she gets because she doesn’t want me leaving her side.”

He lifts his chin as he spits out, “Where is she then, if she can’t fuckin’ live without you?” He makes a show of glancing around the room. “I don’t see her glued to your side.”

I lunge at him, and swiping his feet from under him, I forcefully slam him down on the floor before getting right up in his face. “You took a sweet, innocent fucking woman and tortured her for months because your pathetic ass, couldn’t get a woman like her any other way. You chained her like an animal. You took away her free will. You…” I breathe hard in his face. “I’m going to take everything you used to torture her from you.”

Shoving away from the fucker, I rise to my feet, and order, “Strap him down.”

Samuel and Jorge move forward, and Nolan tries to climb to his feet and run, but they grab him without much effort and drag his worthless ass to the mortuary bed.

“No!” he shouts. “No! Wait! No!”

Hauling him onto the steel surface, Pedro secures the shackles around his arms and thighs, securing the fucker in place.

I take a moment to calm down so I don’t kill him too quick. I roll my shoulders, then say, “I’m a fair man. I’ll let you choose.” I wave my hand over the table. “Which do you want me to use on you. The saw, ax, or knife?”

“W-what? No!”

I let out a sigh and walk to the table. “Fine. I’ll choose.” I pick up the reciprocating saw and switch it on. “Don’t say I didn’t do you any favors.”

“Noooo!” he shouts, his eyes wide with terror.

“Calm down. I haven’t even gotten started yet,” I mutter. “Christ, you’re dramatic.”

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