I’m sorry!”
“Remember what I said by ‘pieces’?” I sneered into his ear.
“Fuck! NO! Come on, man! Please!”
And then, one by one, I cut off each one of his fingers, his blood-curdling
screams only encouraging me as I sawed away through the fragile bones.
“Stop! Oh, fuck, please! Please! Stop!” he screamed.
Edmund writhed and cried, his body flailing under me in an attempt to get away,
but there was nowhere for him to go. When I was finished, and the only remaining
digit was his thumb, I nodded for Scott to grab the now bright orange metal shovel
from the fire. Blood pooled all over the floor while Edmund cried and shook with
fear as Scott brought the shovel over to his bleeding hand. As I held his wrist down,
Scott placed the flat part of the metal shovel against Edmund’s bleeding nubs. The
room immediately filled with Edmund’s screams as the hot metal seared into his
flesh, cauterizing the wounds. By the time Scott was done, the smell of burning
flesh had lingered throughout the room. But I didn’t want the fucker bleeding out
on me, and I certainly didn’t want to leave him with the option to potentially
reattach his fingers.
“Sorry, you’ll have to jack off with the left hand from now on.” I snickered into
his ear. “Now, if I ever have any more trouble from you or any of your little shit-
head friends, I’ll come back here and finish what I started.” I flicked his injured
hand for emphasis, and he howled. “Got it?”
“Yes!” he nearly screamed.
“Good,” I said enthused as I stood up. “Then we’re done here.”
Heading for the door, we left Edmund in a bloodied mess as he curled his now
mutilated hand into himself. But the moment I reached the door, I remembered
something important.
“Oh, and Edmund,” I said, turning on a smile. He looked over at me with more
fear than I thought possible. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
16
THANKFUL
I woke up feeling like total shit. After Darren had left, I twisted myself back into
the silk sheets, but the sound of his ownership kept ringing in my ears.
Even in death, you will always belong to me.
At least if he were dead, I could finally enjoy a life of celibacy.
After twisting and turning for several hours, wondering where he was and who
he was killing, I finally gave up and went for a shower. As I washed, I contemplated
the idea of escape if Darren were ever killed. I knew he lived a dangerous life, one
where death was constantly knocking at his door, but he probably had that bitch in
his pocket, too. I’d really only had a glimpse of what Darren was capable of, how
cruel he could be, and I knew eventually the rest of that veil would fall, and I’d see
the demon I knew he was. Yet I wanted to cling to the man—the one who could be
tender and caring, and the one who could make my body erupt with volcanic sexual
bliss. I’d rather deal with him than the demanding bloodthirsty crime lord any day.
Listening to him mention that his brother was about to have a baby with his wife
weirded me out. The idea of bringing a child into this life sickened me. This was no
place for something so innocent. But what was even more unsettling was the fact
that Darren was going to be an uncle. To think of him as any kind of family man felt
out of place and unrealistic. I didn’t exactly see him as the nurturing loving type,
but hey, Darren was full of surprises.
After my shower and breakfast, Holly and I went jogging on the beach in our
bare feet. The water felt nice as it splashed against my legs, keeping me cool as I
ran. I was quiet, trapped in my thoughts, while we kept a good, even pace, and even
gave Hank and Blondie some good exercise as they kept up behind us. We circled
the entire island, which I found was at least fifteen miles around. Holly and I had
run along the beach before, even took a jog with Darren a few times, but I’d never
been able to circle the entire island until now. When we headed back to the house,
we walked waist deep in the water, giving my core and thighs a nice run for their
money. By the time we made it to the front door, my feet were killing me from lack
of support. In the end, it was worth it to get to run in the water.
After a quick lunch, Holly and I went for a walk through the island, with proper
shoes this time, and I was content on trying to forget Darren’s words. It was
Thanks-fucking-giving, and that asshole had the nerve to tell me the day before
that I would never see my family again and to bring them up would mean their
deaths. Stupid motherfucker.
Today was supposed to be the day of giving thanks, of remembering everything
you had to be grateful for. Did I even have anything to be grateful for? To be
thankful for? I was alive, technically, but should I even be thankful for that? Some
lives were simply not
