Page 94 of Death

When I step into the foyer, I see Samuel sitting on the couch in the living room.

He turns his head, and seeing me, he asks, “Everything good?”

I shake my head, my tone low and deadly as I say, “Get Marc to keep an eye on Ciara. I want you with me.”

Only wearing a pair of sweatpants, I walk to the back entrance and leave the villa. The night air is cold on my skin, but it does nothing to cool the rage swirling in my chest.

Ciara’s tears and the desperation on her face for me to erase his fucking touch are the only things I see.

Reaching the heavy door, I yank it open and take the stairs down to where the fucker is lying asleep.

Samuel comes in and says, “Marc is in the villa.”

Standing beside Nolan, I slap his cheek until his eyes open. “Time to wake up. If I can’t sleep, neither will you.”

His head rolls from side to side, and he groans from the pain he’s in.

Bracing my hands on either side of his head, I lean in really close and growl, “Ciara’s asked me to cut off a specific body part, and I can’t deny her a single thing.”

I straighten up and look at Samuel, “We need pliers or tongs. I don’t think he’s big, so tweezers will do as well.”

“No,” Nolan sobs. “Please. I’m begging you.”

Samuel brings the pliers, and as he sets them down beside Nolan, I say, “Remove his pants.”

“Please,” Nolan cries, his voice pitching with raw panic and fear as Samuel tugs the fabric down, exposing Nolan’s pelvis.

He begins to weep, and I stare at him, but it does nothing to appease the rage inside me.

How many times did my woman beg him?

How many times did she cry?

“Did you care when Ciara wept?” I growl. “Or did it feed your ego?” I grab the reciprocating saw and switch it on. “You fucking enjoyed it when she begged you to stop. You savored her tears. Didn’t you?”

He shakes his head wildly. “No. I only wanted to love her.”

My eyes snap to Samuel as I gesture at Nolan’s limp dick. “Hold it up with the pliers. I want to make sure I get all…three inches?” I shake my head. “Did you miss a growth spurt or two?”

Samuel pulls a disgusted face as he pinches Nolan’s dick with the pliers, pulling it up.

“I know,” I mutter. “But it’s the only part Ciara wanted removed so we’ll all fucking power through for her.”

Nolan’s weeping increases as I bring the saw to his dick, and I say, “I swear, if your blood splatters on me, I’m going to fucking beat the shit out of you.”

It only takes one swipe of the saw, and for a moment, I worry whether I got it all. “Is that it?” I ask Samuel while Nolan’s screams reach that annoyingly high pitch I fucking hate.

Samuel tosses the bloody flesh to the side of the room. “Yep.” It looks like he’s going to gag, and I stand back.

“Just don’t puke on Nolan. I don’t want him getting an infection,” I order.

Samuel holds a hand up, and it’s touch and go for a second, then he says, “I’m good.”

“You never get sick. What’s with you?”

“I think the burritos I had earlier were a little off.”

“Oh.” I switch off the saw. “Take care of the wound so you can get to bed.”

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