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“Aziza, she’s been tracking him, and he was following you.”

She doesn’t stop until she’s in front of me. “So, you thought, what, you’d get to him before he got to me?” That same intense stare she had when we first met, she has now, refusing to back down, and I can’t hold it in anymore.

“Yes. He’s going to die tonight, and no one else is ever going to touch you,” I vow.

Nodding her head, she looks out towards the house behind me. I open my mouth to ask what she needs, demanding she not get stuck inside her head. I don't get a chance when she walks around me towards the house.

“Bring him in here,” she orders climbing the stairs.

Bending down, I reach into my back pocket. Pulling out my handcuffs, I put his hands together handcuffing them. Ignoring his moaning before I grab a hold of his feet and drag him inside the house. Dropping his body once we get into the kitchen, Izel puddles around the cabinets, unsure what she’s looking for.

"Tie him to the table, face down.”

Listening to her, I haul him up, zip tying his limbs to the kitchen table.

“Stop,” he groans trying to wiggle his way off the table.

Izel turns at the sound of his voice, murderous eyes before she’s quick to stand near his head. Gripping his head, she pulls his head up.

“Why?” she hisses.

“Get off me, Izel,” he growls, blood dripping from his nose.

“I don’t think so. You’re going to answer my questions, and if you lie or don’t answer, my boyfriend over there is going to break your bones, rip your fingers off and shove them in your ass.” Izel smiles.

I barely catch my breath at her words. Boyfriend. Is that what I am? Her boyfriend. Because that doesn’t seem like enough. I can’t breathe without her; I can’t stand not being near her. I want to wrap myself around her and never let go. When she was gone for those four days, I felt myself dying. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t live.

“I want to know why?” she once again asks. When he doesn’t answer, she eyes me. Taking it as my cue, I step forward, grabbing his right pointer finger and snapping it.

“AH, YOU BITCH!” he screams, thrashing against the binds.

“I told you, answer or he’s going to break your fingers. Now, why!” she screams, yanking on his hair, then he screams.

He doesn’t say anything, glaring at her. When her eyes flick to mine again, I step forward and break his middle finger. And repeat, six fingers broken before he’s an inconsolable mess.

“Dan told us to!” he yells, sobbing. She drops his head, letting his face bounce off the table.

“I was a fucking child! I was eleven I was supposed to be worried about boys my own fucking age! You and he ruined my life, you ruined me. I hate you, I HATE YOU. FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU!” she screams into his face, grabbing his head and smashing his head into the table.

I worry she’s going to rip a stitch or cause even more pain, but I let her go. She needs to do this, even if I hate her getting her hands dirty. Izel needs to face him and let go of her anger. And if that’s by smashing his face into the table before he dies, then so be it.

Izel drops his head, and breathing hard, she steps back. Flicking her eyes to mine, she says, “Pull his pants down.”

“NO!” Reaper cries, pulling against the zip ties and hand cuffs.

Stepping forward, I grip his jeans, yanking them down until they reach his knees. His naked ass is on full display. Izel steps towards me. Reaching into my pocket she pulls out my knife, and my keys drop onto the ground.

“Sorry,” Izel mutters. Bending down I grab them but before I can pocket the keys, Izel snatches them from me.

“You still have the turtle?” she asks, eyes glancing between the ugly turtle and my eyes.

“Of course. I love it,” I mumble, smiling behind my mask.

Izel reaches up, placing her palm against my cheek. My eyes flutter closed, easing my damaged soul. “You love me.”

“Yes.”

Izel steps back, flicking the knife open. I think I know what she’s about to do, but that doesn’t prepare me.