Page 90 of Firethorne
“I don’t think we should stay for this part,” Lysander announced, glancing nervously at Miriam. Ever the coward, he wanted to leave me to the mercy of his evil father.
Firethorne turned to face him with a look of disgust.
“On the contrary,” Firethorne replied. “I think you should stay. She tricked you, too. You’re owed a pound of flesh, or however much you want to take. It’s open season tonight. At midnight, she’ll be on her way to The Butcher, but until then, we get to have all the fun.”
The Butcher.
That name sent a chill down my spine, and I grunted through the tape over my mouth, yanking on the ties at my wrists and kicking out with my feet.
“Ah.” Firethorne smiled down at me, the kind of smile that would make a devil cry. “You’re familiar with The Butcher then?” He leant down to stare right in my face. “You know what lies ahead for you.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, wishing he’d self-combust and take the place reserved for him in hell.
“Remember what he is and how much worse it’s going to get for you when you’re paying our debt tonight,” he went on. “It might help you survive to see the morning. Let that survival instinct kick in. Or not. I couldn’t care either way.”
There was a commotion outside in the hallway, and they all turned their attention to the door as it suddenly burst open. My heart shattered into a million pieces at what I saw, but I also felt the smallest glimmer of hope.
There, flanked by two huge men who were holding him in place as he kicked and fought against them, was Damien.
His face was badly swollen, blood running from his nose. His eyes were barely open, and blood poured from a cut above his eyebrow.
But I could tell he wasn’t broken.
He was stronger than that.
Firethorne stiffened, clearly bothered by the fact that Damien was fighting so hard, and he stood tall as he announced proudly, “So glad you could finally join us,son,”
Damien turned to face him, and that’s when he saw me.
Every muscle in his body tensed and he clenched his jaw, spitting and cursing as he thrashed even harder against the men restraining him.
“I thought you’d be dead by now,” Firethorne went on. “But maybe this has worked in our favour. Now you get to see what happens when you fuck me over.”
“Fuck you.” Damien spat at him from across the room, but Firethorne just laughed.
“Did you really think you’d get away with it? That I wouldn’t find out what you were doing?” He shook his head. “I might’ve acted like I trusted you, but I didn’t. I don’t trust anyone. I had multiple people tracing your online activity,Damien. I bugged every room you’ve ever been in, tracked your car, your phone, all of it. You thought you could outsmart me, destroy my whole business, but you were wrong. I told you, I’m always one step ahead. But in your case, it was a mile.”
Damien hissed, spitting blood on the floor as he continued to try and break free of the men’s grasps.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” he snarled at his father. And then he looked at me, and that fury exploded, evolving into a visceral, palpable force that engulfed the room. “You’re a fucking dead man.”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to be giving threats, do you?” Firethorne sneered. Then he reached down to run his rancid finger along my cheek, grinning as Damien spat and swore, bucking against his captors. “Maybe you should stay here and watch the fallout of your actions. It’s going to be a good show.” Evilness shrouded him as he added, “But let’s make one thing clear... the only one doing any killing around here, will be me.”
Damien thrashed in the men’s hold as he shouted, “Get your fucking hands off her. I swear, if you fucking touch her again, I’ll break your fucking neck.”
“Oh, I’m going to do more than touch her,” Firethorne threatened, taking the knife from the desk and holding it up to fuck with Damien and strike more fear into my heart. “I can’t wait for you to see how creative I can get. Do you think The Butcher came up with those moves all on his own?” He shook his head and made a tsk sound. “No. He learnt from the best.”
Damien let out a feral, animalistic scream that pierced my heart. And as the hopelessness of our reality hit him, his knees buckled, and he whispered pleas that went unheard as the men yanked him back up to stand.
Firethorne was cackling, and Miriam grinned wickedly as her fucked up uncle knelt beside me on the floor.
“Do you want me to pin her down?” Miriam asked. “Like I’ve done with the others, while you?—”
She didn’t get chance to finish.
“I don’t want him here,” Lysander butted in, cutting through the fear-laced atmosphere with his grave urgency. “Get rid of him. Now.”
Firethorne stood back up and tilted his head as he regarded his eldest son curiously.
