Page 36 of UnWholly Angels
“You look beautiful, but I think you’re missing just one thing,” I cackled. Carson’s death was only the beginning of my rebellion; the poor bastard hadn’t even seen it coming. While I did feel bad about it, he worked for Rocco, connected to him in some way; that was all that mattered to me at the end of the day. Killing someone in cold blood shouldn’t be an enjoyable experience; it was survival. But it was an itch I'd wanted to scratch for years out of pure and unbridled rage. It was the one thing I could thank Rocco for, and deep down, he knew that letting me do this would keep me from turning on him eventually. I remember the first time he made me kill someone, how angry I was and the feeling of fear that riddled my chest.
Yet, the vengeance that cradled my heart told me it was okay. So, while Riley was at practice, I'd spent my day spending his money and tracking this piece of shit down. Who he was specifically was of little importance to me—I just needed someone connected to Rocco. Most of these men lived with Rocco, and it was hard to separate them, but I had a pretty neat system going that, personally, Riley would kill me for doing if he found out. A little bit of bag and gag, I’d say. “Who knew a couple pictures of my pussy would have you crawling on all fours like a dog. Truly a piece of cake.”
The rubber glove snapped against my wrist, the heat of the room causing a bit of perspiration to settle over my chest. If the system wasn’t so corrupt, then I wouldn't have to seek out my own justice at all. Calm and collected, I reached for the syringe and the clear vial.
The liquid swished around in the bottle as I shook it up and filled the needle. The murky liquid settled, and I tapped against the glass shaft. Nothing important was in it, just a creation made by yours truly. If I hadn’t been left so much time to research torture tactics over the years out of pure boredom, it would have been a lot harder to create a way to keep a man hard for justthe amount of time I needed to complete the task. Oh god…the fear of the unknown in their begging eyes as they lost their most prized possession. There was nothing like finally being the one in control of another's body who had such little regard for my own.
Peering over my shoulder to glance at his sweating face, the anger rose, and the doubt fell away from my shoulders. “You know, I feel like sometimes Riley still thinks I'm the same weak girl, and that couldn't be further from the truth.”
The harder he thrashed, the tighter the chain suffocated his limbs, and his whimpers became cries as he pleaded for mercy. Turning toward the pathetic man, my red-stained lips parted in awe, and I exhaled, letting the warm air wrap around his rapidly freezing body, walking over to stand in front of him.
“Playing the damsel in distress is fun. He thinks I'm home safe, but here I am hunting all of you down like weak prey. After spending the money he wanted me to, of course.”
Taking the flaccid dick in my palm, I slowly inched the tip of the needle into the soft flesh, injecting the fluid into his body. His last hours on this planet would be filled with pain and an overwhelming regret. Thinking that if he silently atoned for his sins, he would be pardoned somehow. I knelt down and wiped a tear from his eyes. He pleaded over the gag, but I chose to ignore it. Instead, my tongue ran lazily over my thumb and tasted the saltiness of his tears as I stood with a sigh.
“The fear you harbor is disgusting; you deserve everything that’s coming to you. And if you think Rocco will miss you, then I hate to say your loyalty sits with a serpent.”
Pulling the rolling table toward us, I perused the tools, deciding what could be done. Normally, when I completed these tasks, I preferred to go the route less…messy, unlike someone I knew. I’d been numb for a while, and it came easily to adapt and flip my emotions like a switch. So that was what I did.
Grabbing the thin wire from the table, I set my sights on his scrotum, pinching and pulling at it so I could wrap them once, twice, three times, before moving to the base of his dick and wrapping it as well, taking care of the fact it was tighter than it should've been and already cutting the blood flow to his cock.
“Did you know that a penis has thirty minutes tops to be in bondage before damage starts to set in?” I brought a hand down on the tender flesh, and he cried out, but I just laughed as blood slowly started to trickle from the makeshift bondage. Rocco’s men were always weak, too horny to see the bigger picture like their boss. That would be part of his downfall. While the thought of seeing Rocco again scared me, I felt safe. Riley was in my care, and we would protect each other; I knew that now. Once they were all gone, we would be free.
Shaking the thoughts from my head, I turned my attention back to my guest, giving this man's body a small push. As he dangled from side to side, I laughed, his eyes following me as I circled around him, watching as the tip started to turn blue. The ping of my cellphone brought me out of the haze.
Reaching for it, a pang hit my chest, and I was almost disappointed. Also, at some point, I should really change Riley’s contact name.
Fuck Nugget
Practice longer than usual.
Don’t wait up if you get tired.
Figures. With an angry huff, I turned back to my masterpiece, noticing the strained heaving breaths as his chest struggled to take in air. His head was stained cherry red as the blood rushed to it and away from his purple dick. His eyes were bloodshot and watery, lost in the void as he tried to accept his fate. I shruggedmy shoulders. He could stay like that; there was someone else who needed a bit of training.
“Now, don’t go anywhere, okay? Although by the time I get back, you’ll be long gone. Then I can sneak into the zoo and discard your carcass into the lion pit.”
“Please, I’m sorry,” he said, but it was barely audible behind the gag. My sneaker scuffed against the floor as I headed toward the cellar door. He didn’t deserve a last thought from me, but I gave it to him anyway.
“They all say that, but never really mean it. Now you’re sorry because you’re facing judgment, ironic, isn’t it. Maybe in the next life you can make better choices, or come back as a fucking slug; whatever works,” I sneered.
With that, I flipped the light switch and closed the heavy door with a creak, leaving him utterly in pain and alone in the darkness. What I'd had to become through all the abuse never made me stronger. It downright made me want to slit my own throat so I could escape, so I wouldn't be a burden to those around me. But I knew better than that, and it wasn’t how life worked. So, what better way to make the most of it and erase a few dangerous people while I was eternally waiting for justice I’d never receive. Maybe one day I would tell Riley how I really felt and what I went through, but he’d already been hurt enough. And personally, I just wanted to move on.
No way in hell practice ran late. I’d spoken to Chloe a few hours ago about her overexcitement for a much-needed date night. Nick had announced his arrival home, and I’d heard it. So, what was Riley doing at the arena so late?
My fists balled at my sides and my jaw clenched, making a split-second decision to run up the stairs, grab a random set of keys, and head for the arena.
He lied to me.
The door to the locker room burst open, chipping away at the wall it banged against. The room was adorned with the colors of the Cardinals, lined with benches and their logo atop the blue carpet. This place was the epitome of luxury.
I wonder if all locker rooms look like this?
Each player had their name on a bronze plate over the area where their gear was held. The smell surprised me as well, half expecting it to smell horrid. Instead, my sense of smell was enveloped by sandalwood and another scent that I couldn't quite touch, nevertheless mouthwatering.
It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, and I wondered if he’d already left for the night. With a shake of my head, I continued to survey the area for any sign of him. Riley had to be here. His duffle bag sat neatly on the bench, slightly open, and my feet involuntarily found themselves crossing the room to investigate.
My hand drifted over the bag, moving the zipper to expose more of his belongings. It was a lot of the same: gear, extra clothes, and some toiletries. It was his jersey that caught my eye, and I found myself rubbing the material through my fingers. It smelled a bit, but I couldn’t resist the overwhelming need to raise it to my nostrils and sniff, taking in the familiar smell that, in some fucked up way, I missed terribly. It'd been so long since I'd been wrapped in it, and my anger reluctantly washed away as the memories flooded my brain.
