Page 184 of Retribution

I love that he can turn off his feelings to what is happening and give me this side of him.

“Do you know of anything that’ll keep her awake while I do this?” I ask. “I am not above spraying her in the face to keep her awake.”

Annoyed as her eyes begin to droop again, I watch as Lucas picks up the sprayer and does just that.

“I didn’t bring any drugs with me, so I’ll spray her for you,” he shrugs.

“Thank you,” I gush, putting the hand saw down. I’m annoyed with it and need to snap three ribs that are being stubborn.

Finding a pair of tree pruners, I open them and snap them shut around the bones, grinning as it works better. I move her organs around until I’m happy with the placement, giggling each time Lucas wakes her back up.

“I heard that we’re holding a fishing tournament,” Jed says, chuckling as he finds me elbows deep in Ophelia’s chest.

“Yeah, let me just clean up, and then I’ll fix her so you can play,” I say easily, holding out my hands so that Lucas can help me clean up.

I finish with soap and water at the sink, and then dry my hands and arms before picking up the grenade.

“I’m going to put this in her chest and close it up just enough that you won’t yank it out while playing,” I explain.

Ophelia is still wide awake, listening to every word pensively as I pack her chest cavity with gauze and then make a nest for the grenade. I fix her ribs around it as well, gently pulling at the grenade before I’m happy that it won’t come out easily.

“You’re going to make a fucking mess for my men to clean up, aren’t ye?” Corbin grumbles.

“Aye,” I tease him, winking. “Who’s in the dog house and needs really gross manual labor?”

“Ugh, I can think of a few people,” he says. “Carry on and thank you for the teaching moment for them. Boys, find a way to spring the door so it’ll close just as she blows up.”

“You can’t go first, Kane,” Jed says, shaking his head. “I have a feeling you’re going to win.”

Stepping outside, despite how messy I am, I lean against the wall and watch these alphas make a line with a fishing pole. I don’t know if any of them can fish, but I love the enthusiasm.

Ambrose goes first, and I frown as I realize Ophelia is too far back.

“Roll her forward carefully, and then try?” I suggest.

Wren’s alphas do as I recommend, and then Ambrose tries again while Morris sets up a way to spring load the door so he can shut it closed. Ambrose still misses, though the hook gets stuck in a piece of loose skin, and he has to yank it free.

“She looks better this way,” he grunts, handing off the fishing pole.

Shaw smirks in agreement, casting the line in a much more professional manner. Damn. Maybe they do fish. Never judge a book by its cover, I suppose.

Unfortunately, he aims too high, and it hooks into Ophelia’s eye.

“Do I get points if I get it to come out?” he asks.

“There’s no way it comes out cleanly,” I challenge.

I’m unfortunately correct as he yanks hard, though it does get some fun screams.

“Close, but no cigar,” Everest crows. His blue eyes are emotionless as he takes the pole next. “One abstract omega painted on the walls, coming up.”

“Fuck yes,” Wren says, bouncing on her heels. She’s starting to come out of her shell, and I’m enjoying seeing it. Even Shaw hides a smile as Everest shoots his shot.

“Fuck,” he growls. The hook harmlessly slides off the grenade pin ring, but it’s closer than anyone else.

Ophelia is still breathing despite the renovations I made to her chest, her ruined eye adding to the horror of her body. I think the outside is beginning to match the inside of her evil self.

“Next!” I say excitedly, anticipation running through my body.