Page 23 of Savage Hate
They just began hunting them.
“Killing him would feel good,” Jude muses, taking Damon’s knife from his hand. “But we’re not going to kill him tonight, princess.”
My head spins. “But I thought—”
“He’s not worth the jail time,” Silas clarifies, his arms crossed as he narrows his eyes at Noah.
I nod to the knife in Jude’s hands. “What’s that for?”
Damon grins as he cracks his neck and takes the knife from Jude. “A few days ago, I spoke to the girl on his team. The one he slept in the same room with. She’s graduating this year, and refuses to press charges, but she admitted that he raped her. She said no, and he did it anyway,” he growls. “She’s seventeen.” He looks at me. “Just like you were.”
My stomach churns. “Jesus.”
He hands the knife to me. “If you want to hurt him, we won’t judge you.”
I take the knife—the porcelain handle and the shiny, sharp steel—and I look over at Noah. The knife clatters to the ground, and I shake my head, turning to face them again.
“No. I don’t want to hurt him.”
Silas smirks. “Good girl.”
Jude walks over to me and looks down at me with a scowl. “You passed the test. Welcome to the dark side of Savage Ink, Lennon. Sit down,” he commands, pointing to the chair across from Noah.
“Wait,” I say, my voice a little louder than before. “What the fuck do you mean, I passed the test?”
“Sit down, Lennon,” Damon growls. His voice is menacing, and I see him pick the knife up before he quirks his eyebrows in my direction.
I walk over and sit, my legs still shaking, and a flurry of motion happens as Silas injects Noah with something else and they all lower him to the ground. And then…
“Oh my God,” I whisper, watching as Silas cleans his forehead with an antibacterial wipe for thirty seconds. I point to the wipe. “Does that really matter in the grand scheme of things?”
He’s going to tattoo Noah’s forehead.
Tattoo. His. Forehead.
“If it gets infected,” Silas starts, continuing to wipe in large circles, “the writing might get all fucked up.”
I laugh and look away. “This is sadistic, you know that, right?”
Jude looks at me and frowns. “He’s a rapist, Lennon. You tell me who the sadist is.”
Goosebumps erupt along my skin as I watch Silas, Damon, and Jude lift Noah onto one of the leather seats, reclining it fully. Silas snaps plastic gloves onto his hands, and then he looks up at me.
“So? What shall we do?”
I open and close my mouth. “You’re asking me?”
He shrugs. “As one of his victims, I thought maybe you’d want a say.”
I walk over and look down at Noah. “Do you guys do this a lot?”
I see the three of them share a look. Jude shrugs. “We were known in Boston. Not so much here, though there are people who suspect we get up to no good.”
I think of the man in the bar but decide against saying anything. I have a feeling secrets run deeper in Greythorn than I previously thought.
“Rapist,” I say quietly. “He raped a girl. He almost raped me. There are probably many others. Now he can’t hide from anyone… not even his father.”
Silas’s eyes find mine, pinning me to my spot. My stomach flutters as his eyes soften just a bit, and something white-hot jolts through me as he winks.
