Page 48 of Devil
Colt coughs behind me and I don’t have to turn around to know he’s smiling. I don’t think either of us realized how unhinged I am. Maybe I needed him to bring it out of me. Maybe he needed me to help control his own.
Mommy raises her hand, flipping me the bird.
“Defiant twat, aren’t you? Where was that fire when your son needed you?” I spit in her face, and her body jolts from pain or fear, who the fuck cares?
Raising the bat, I bring it down on her other leg. Her stifled scream gets my blood pumping more and a part of me wants to remove the tape so I can hear her agony at full volume.
“Colt, you want to start in on daddy over there? I think mommy needs to soak in the pain for a little bit.”
He comes up behind me, gripping my hair, jerking my head back. “I’m so fucking hard right now, little demon. I’m going to ruin your pussy when we’re done.”
My breath hitches as he lets go, moving to stand in front of his father. It’s my turn to lean against the doorway and watch my man in his element. I was concerned at first, coming into this house was a shock to his system. But he’s resilient and I knew he would come back to me.
He bends down, removing the tape from his father’s mouth. “I’d be a fool to expect an apology. A bigger idiot to believe it. I only have one question. Why?”
The bastard on the ground snarls, spitting at Colt’s feet. My blood boils, but I keep quiet, knowing he needs to do this himself.
“We never fucking wanted you. That dumb bitch was too stupid to take her birth control every day and then she was knocked up.”
Colt nods. I expect to see anger or hurt.
Anything.
But he’s cold as ice. “You got your revenge, didn’t you John?”
He snarls again. “I should have buried you in the yard. If I’d known whooping your ass would’ve gotten you taken away, I would’ve called the cops myself.”
I snap.
Lunging forward, I rip the switchblade from Colt’s pocket. Pressing the button, the blade appears, and I slam it into John’s thigh. He screams in agony, and I rip the knife from his muscle, plunging it into his other thigh. “You motherfucker!” I shout.
Before I can stab him again, Colt wraps his arms around me, pulling me away. He drags me into the hall, and I spin around, pushing him in the chest. “How the fuck are you so calm?”
His big ass doesn’t move, just watches me as I lose my shit. Huffing out a breath, I fist my hips, staring back at him. He steps forward, pushing me against the wall. Gripping my chin with his fingers, his expression is somber. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I melt against him, holding his wrist. “Are you okay?”
He nods. “Yes, baby.” He kisses me softly. “Will you go in the living room and bring in the bag?”
“Okay.”
He lets go and I head towards the living room to retrieve our weapon bag. It’s a short walk to the shitty couch and I throw the bag over my shoulder. Once I reach the hallway, I hear thumping and smacking sounds. My pace quickens only to freeze when I reach the doorway.
Colt is on top of his father, pummeling him in the face. With each punch, John’s head bounces off the floor as Kathleen cries in her corner, her mangled legs useless in any attempt to get away.
Yeah bitch. That’s your future.
I watch in amazement as Colt’s body flexes with every swing, delivering knock out blows to the face of the man who created him. His breathing is surprisingly steady, his expression detached and void of any emotion.
It’s terrifying how quickly he can go from being soft with me to being unhinged like he is now. It’s even more horrifying to me that I can do the same myself.
I silently wait, letting him work through his childhood trauma. He throws punch after punch for long minutes until his body slouches, his breathing finally showing signs of exhaustion.
His mother is still crying in the corner, and it pisses me off. “Where the fuck were your tears for your son?”
Colt rises to his feet, giving his mother a quick glance before moving towards me. His fists are bloody, his face and chest splattered with red. I look past him to see his father lying unrecognizable anddead. His still chest makes me believe he was gone long before Colt’s blows stopped.
It should concern me his preferred method of killing people is his fists. This is the second person he’s literally beat to death in my presence. His passion doesn’t bother me. If he needs to end someone’s life with his knuckles, I’ll be there to clean and bandage them afterwards.