Saint (A Dark Mafia Romance)(25)
“What the fuck are you doing in my-”
I reach into my coat and yank out my gun, and the kid’s eyes go wide in fear.
“Oh fuck! Please-!”
“No more fucking games,” I snarl. “Where is she?”
He shuffled back as I advance, skimming back on the floor into the dimly lit living room. I follow, when suddenly, my blood turns to ice.
She’s out cold, slumped on the couch and breathing shallowly with her jacket off, her shirt pushed up over her bra, and her skirt bunched around her waist.
There’s a sinking feeling.
A chilling sensation.
And then there’s just rage. All-consuming, fucking rage.
I roar as I yank the second kid out of the chair he’s huddled on, haul back, and smash my fist into his face, hard. He screams, blood pouring down from his shattered nose as I toss him like a sack of shit across the room.
The first kid, still on the floor, starts to scramble for the door. But I stride over and stomp down on his ankle, I’m sure breaking it as he screams in agony, I haul him up by the neck and send him crashing into the flat screen TV before I whirl, my fists raised and my shoulders heaving as the need to destroy these two consumes me.
I yank the second kid up off the floor, ignoring his blubbering screaming as I sink my fist into his gut twice and then smash my forearm against his face before letting him slump to the ground. I kick him hard in the balls, relishing the way he just deflates.
“We didn’t touch her!” he screams, crying as he holds his balls, the blood pouring from his nose and lips.
“I swear, man! We didn’t-”
“She decided to take her own shirt off then?”
He pauses.
Wrong fuckin’ answer.
I haul him up again before I start to rain my fists down on him. I punch him until he stops even screaming - until he’s barely even moaning even more as my fists slam into his bloodied body.
I stop eventually, checking to make sure he’s breathing before I turn to the guy I threw into the TV.
“What’s your name.”
He shrinks away from me, his face a mask of terror.
I reach for my gun again and he shudders and throws his hands up. “Max! My name is Max!”
“And him?”
“Jayson.”
My eyes narrow.
“So who’s Jayson.”
“My boyf-” she shakes her head. “My ex-boyfriend.”
“Look, man, it was his idea, I swear!”
I drop Max to the ground and storm over to Jayson. He mumbles something as I yank him up by the neck and slam him against the living room wall.
“Drop your pants.”
He blinks through the tears and the blood, looking confused. “Wh-what?”
“I said drop your fucking pants,” I growl menacingly.
He blinks again, but when I start to raise the gun in my hand, he whimpers and flinches. He quickly undoes his belt, shoving his jeans down his legs.
“Boxers too.”
His face falls. “Dude-”
“Did I stutter?”
He swallows, eyeing the gun in my hand with a terrified look before he reached down and shucks his boxers down.
Jayson suddenly shrieks - this loud, gasping, high-pitched sound.
It’s the sound a man makes when he feels the naked steel of a knife blade against his balls.
“Jayson, I need you to listen very closely to what I’m about to say.” My voice is ice cold, my eyes burning right into the whimpering face of the fucker in front of me, shaking and sobbing with my switchblade pressed against his nuts.
“You’re done in Boston. Is that understood?”
“But- but I live he-” he screams as I pull the blade tighter against his jewels, squeezing his eyes shut and looking like he’s about to throw up.
“No, Jayson, you don’t. Not anymore. And if you’re still here in twelve hours, I will be back to cut these-” I tap the blade against him, making him sob.
“I’ll be back to cut these from you and watch you swallow them. Am I clear?”
He’s nodding his head before I can even finish the sentence. “Yes! Yes!”
“Wonderful.” I whirl on Max, watching him shirk away from me, his eyes on the blade in my hand.
“It should go without saying that the same thing goes for you, shithead. Unless, of course, you want the full treatment too?”
Max shakes his head violently side to side. “N-n-no, man, I get you. I’m gone. I swear.”
I slip the knife and the gun back into my belt and turn to Sierra, still lying there unconscious on the couch. I grab a blanket and cover her before I scoop her up into my arms and turn for the door. Jayson and Max shrink from me as I storm past them, back down the grimy hallway, and out the front door of their shitty apartment.