Page 48 of Wrathful King
“Sounds like a good plan.” Kian’s smile was the picture of menace. “This won’t bring my sister back, but it sure as fuck will make her spirit rest easier. I know it’ll makemefeel better.”
I took a step closer, the stench of piss invading my lungs. I ignored it, intent on making sure this fucker felt agony before he drew his last breath. Sweat poured down his face as I brought my blade to his throat.
“Who gave you the information on our location?” I demanded. I pushed it into his flesh, then twisted it clockwise.
“Your cousin,” he wailed.
How in the fucking hell would my cousin know? “Who was his contact?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Your cousin came for the auction to see Reina one last time, and to collect his finder’s fee.”
The anger was hot and red, filling my vision with crimson.
“You shall not see,” I said, and his eyes widened, just enough for me to pluck out his left eyeball. I let out a heavy sigh, barely audible over his howls. “Okay, I’ll let you watch me through one eyeball.” While he was writhing around on the ground, clawing at his face, I grabbed two blades, then returned to his body.
“I really wish Ghost were here,” I purred, plunging a knife through his left palm. His scream was a fucking symphony worth recording and listening to over and over again. “He’d pull your teeth out. Unfortunately, I don’t have the stomach for it.”
“Yeah, he’s savage,” Kian agreed.
Perez started to laugh, the act throwing me off. “What’s so funny?” Raphael demanded. I was curious now too.
That seemed to only make him laugh harder.
“If he can laugh, he’s not in enough pain.” And by God, he’d be in so much pain by the time I was done with him. For Reina. For every woman he ever hurt. “Limbs are next,” I announced helpfully. Or not.
I grabbed a saw and waved it in front of him to ensure he understood what I meant. And boy, did hescream. All I could think about was the state of my wife and the dead and dismembered women we found at his torture compound.
Much to his dismay, I started with his left arm, leaving him hanging like a broken swing. He screamed and shit himself.
“God, my kids don’t even cry this much,” Raphael complained. Just as I predicted, Raphael’s white suit had red stains all over it, even though he had yet to have his turn with Perez.
“So glad he stopped laughing,” Kian grumbled. “That was annoying.”
“Shit, I cut the arm with the blade piercing his palm. I meant to do the other one.” I plunged the blade through his right palm this time.
I didn’t bother removing the fucker’s pants. Nobody needed to see his dick. I just raised my knife and stabbed it into his groin and pelvis area.
“Do you like the color of blood?” I hissed as I kept stabbing his groin area. The stench of blood and piss mixed in the air, but I ignored it. This was for my wife.
I turned to Kian. “The tongue is all yours.”
Perez had been in and out of consciousness, but his one eye widened at that, full of pure, delicious terror, and I watched Kian cut his brother’s tongue clean off in the span of a single heartbeat.
But it was my face he saw last. I made sure of it.
* * *
Another day and Reina was cleared to travel. It took a couple million dollars to persuade the doctor to fly back to the Philippines with us. None of us were on our deathbeds—a few bullet wounds, broken bones, and mostly superficial injuries. We were lucky. Reina not so much.
Her condition left her mostly unconscious. There was a time or two when she’d even stopped breathing. My heart stopped right along with her.
According to the doctor, it was how Reina’s central nervous system reacted to the absence of heroin. It slowed down her breathing to the point of stopping and irregulated her temperature and blood pressure. We had to flush her system out.
Dante was sitting in the seat beside me, playing with his switchblade, his mood darkening with each mile we put behind us.
“Have you heard anything about Phoenix?” I asked him, knowing he had Cesar on it.
“No, she’s good at hiding,” he muttered. “You think Romero is helping her?”
