Page 207 of Satan's Spawn
“Please, please.” He covers his face with his hands.
It never takes a lot to set me off, but the sound of Felix saying Rebecca’s name effectively flips the switch.
I strike down on him hard, the wood colliding with his jaw forcing him to the ground with blood spurting from his mouth.
It’s such a beautiful sight to behold. Broken bones and bright Crimson. It brings on the carnal need to see more of it, to taste the fear in Felix’s heart.
To make him earn his name.
My roar is thunderous as I bring the bat down on him again, falling through the dark hole I can’t pull myself out of until I’m back in my tub.
The sound of his jaw shattering vibrates up my spine, turning my rage into a frenzy. More blood splatters everywhere, making his face unrecognizable, which is enough for me to let up.
Felix is knocked unconscious, and as I tilt my head, watching him lay still, all I can see is her face through his battered one.
So scared. Vulnerable. Helpless after what he did.
So fragile and in need of protection…but because I was a coward I couldn’t offer any until it was too late.
I don’t hear Rebecca’s words, I only hear her cries.
Her ragged breaths.
She made me promise, yeah, but promises are meant to be broken. Just like rapists are meant to be dead.
Convincing myself I’m right, I flip Felix over onto his stomach and hurl the bat over my head, then striking his spine.
I repeat the process, satisfaction growing as the sound of more bones cracking fill my ears.
I go on like this, getting lost in the delicious violence until a call comes through on my phone, rudely interrupting play time.
My chest is heaving as I reach into my back pocket and check who’s calling, making sure it’s not Rebecca.
Of course it ends up being the only other person besides Dad and Rebecca I’d allow to interrupt me.
“What is it?” I grit into the phone as I poke Felix’s lifeless body with the bloody bat.
“It’s Rebecca, man.” Saint huffs. “She’s looking for you so get your ass back here before you do something extra stupid than usual.”
I ignore Saint and poke Felix again, not a response or groan or squeak coming from him, and when I reach down to feel for a pulse I find nothing there.
Well, looks like extra stupid mode has been activated.
I’m lifting the asshole to toss him in the river when the sound of nervous female chatter, likely the prostitutes, start closing in on me.
So I drop him and take off running.
Rebecca
“Rebecca.” I hear a faint voice calling out to me, making me stir in my sleep, reaching for the blanket to pull over my head. I groan when something heavy stops it from reaching me.
Rolling over, I groan, feeling so exhausted from the events of the night.
A small tongue licking my cheek has my eyes spring open, coming face to face with Potato wagging his tail, kissing me again on the forehead.
“Am I dreaming?” I reach for him.
“Not anymore.” Crayton’s deep timbre startles me.
