Page 32 of Vow of Vengeance (Destruction & Vengeance Duet #2)

I want to cut his tongue from his mouth. I've been thinking about it from the moment I watched it disappear between Soren's soft thighs, heard his disgusting fucking slurping sounds.

He opens his mouth, which is close enough. I kick him in the head this time, appreciating the crack as his nose shatters under my boot.

"You know why I'm here?” I growl. “Why I'm doing this?"

Khan's too fucked to answer, probably even to hear the question, so I get down on his level, dropping my weight so that I rest my arm over my knee, the knife in hand.

"You can speak now, to answer me. You know why I'm here?"

"I didn't do anything!" Khan sobs, blood and spit and snot running down his face together. Tears, too.

The fucker is crying .

Such a little bitch. He can't even stand a sucker punch and a little kick? He wouldn't survive half of what my girl has.

"Wrong." I chuckle. "Really fucking wrong . You're sick, you know that? Pretending to be her friend to victimize her? How fucking long was your game, anyway? Did you befriend her just for this?"

"I couldn't help myself.” Khan sobs, pressing his forehead to the floor as blood pools out around him. “I love her."

" Love ?" I laugh, but I can feel my sanity slipping fast. Madness has me in its grip, and it’s addictive as I kick him again, appreciating the way he folds himself in half to try and protect himself. "That's not fucking love. You don't hurt the ones you love." Not like that, anyway.

"I couldn't help myself!" He cries again, lifting his head off the floor to look desperately at me. "I had to have her. I'm obsessed with her."

I can't tell if his confession is an attempt to appeal to me.

I'm obsessed with her, too.

But I would never dream of making her hurt in ways her body didn't enjoy. As many times as I thought about folding her in half and taking her hard and ruthlessly, I never would have done what he did.

I wanted her submission. He wanted her body... the shell of her. And the shell of her isn’t her at all. It’s void of all the things that make Soren, Soren.

I wanted the things that made her who she is while my cock was stuffed inside her tight cunt... her wit, her banter, her anger. He wanted her broken, helpless, and weak.

"Obsession isn't love." Wes says coolly. "They can feel the same, sometimes. But love heals. It doesn't tarnish. And based on what my friend here has told me, you tarnished what belongs to him."

"Belongs to him?" Khan wails. "She doesn't fucking belong to you. I'll kill her before I let you fuck her up, too."

That gets a real laugh from me. I don't know if he's delusional from the blows to the head or just trying to make himself feel bigger in his final moments, but it doesn't matter. He's here, staring death in the face, and Soren is safe.

He's not getting anywhere near her ever again.

"You're going to die here, and no one will mourn you. Soren will be sad when she hears, but I'll be there to pick the pieces up, to put her back together. And you? You'll be..." I pause, turning to Wes. "What are we doing with the body?"

Wes tilts his head thoughtfully, as if he hadn’t yet considered that. I wonder for half a second whether I was a fool to think he’d be of any use to me, but when I look from him to Khan’s sniveling form, I decide it’s worth it.

"You know of any pig farms nearby?"

I don't, but I'm not opposed to searching it online. Most any farmer will live far enough from the road they'll never be any wiser to the fact that we brought their pigs a little midnight snack.

"You'll be pig shit." I shrug, turning back to Khan. "Was it worth it?"

It's a dumb question, because I don't think I'll like his answer either way. If he says no, it's really just adding insult to injury.

If he says yes, it means I haven't been hard enough on him.

"I did what I had to." Khan wails, snot slipping down into his mouth. Fucking disgusting. "I'm sorry!"

"You're not sorry." I laugh. "You're sorry you got caught."

Wes strides behind him, tossing the roll of duct tape in the air and catching it easily. He finds the end and yanks it so that it unravels with a loud scraping noise that makes Khan bristle as if it's a fucking gunshot.

"Don't do this! I can change! I'll be better!"

"Damage is done, I'm afraid." I sigh. "You did this to yourself."

Wes reaches over to put the tape around the base of his neck, and I don't bother asking what he did it for. He wraps his neck as Khan sobs, his lips quivering.

"Tell her I love her, okay?"

That's about as much as I can take. I don't even think, stabbing the knife decisively in the first bit of body I find.

Khan's eyes widen and a scream starts in his throat, but Wes clamps a hand over his mouth and nose before he can even get a sound out.

I note the flash of gold on his ring finger and think faintly it's a bold strategy to keep his ring on while he commits murder.

But I suppose blood washes off in the end.

The stain of betrayal, though? That doesn't.

I glance down and scoff when I see the front of Khan’s boxers, saturated with blood and piss.

Fucking pussy.

"I won't be doing that."

His face contorts in rage, desperation shifting him into someone that looks so completely different.

"Then tell me one thing?"

"Maybe." I shrug as Wes winds the tape over his jaw. He looks like he's turning him into some sort of pinata.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"I recognized you." I tell him simply. It’s all the explanation he deserves. "In the video of you raping her."

Confusion registers on his face, and he opens his mouth for something, but Wes drags the tape over his lips.

It's just as well. I don't need anything from him. We can just poke a hole in the tape near his ears, so he can hear me until his last heartbeat.

His eyes widen, shoulders stiffening as his attempt to fight is renewed.

"Getting hard to breathe?" Wes chuckles. "Don't worry. I'll leave you just enough space so you don't suffocate before your time."

I watch him calmly as Wes finishes the roll of tape, covering his eyes, his forehead, his nose.

Everything except a small space beneath his nostrils.

.. a space so small I'm not sure it's actually going to allow him to get much air in for long.

He may actually suffocate slowly if I don't do something first.

But part of me wants to let him die gradually, suffocating on the obsession that he thought was love, the obsession that led him to do cruel, monstrous things.

Wes opens the fridge and helps himself to a beer, holding a second out to me in offering.

I take it with a laugh and twist the top off to help myself.

"Your move, buddy." Wes grins.

Though we're no longer restraining him, Khan doesn't move.

He wobbles on his knees, right where we left him, his hands clawing at the tape mask Wes fashioned him, desperately seeking the end so he can unravel it.

I don't think he'll find it in time, especially when his hands start to slip, like it's taking him too much effort to hold them up.

"We should have set a timer and taken bets on how long it would take."

Wes chuckles and takes a swig of his beer. "I'm gonna take a piss. Have fun."

He's right. I should treat myself, have a little fun with this.

I grip the knife, dragging it up his thigh and watching him tremble with everything in him until it becomes too much. He falls on his side, useless to move when he can't even breathe.

One hand reaches out for me, like he thinks he has a chance at getting any leverage. I drive the blade through it without flinching, and he screams, burning up the last of his oxygen supply.

"Evers?" Wes calls to me from somewhere in the house, and I roll my eyes at him though he can't see me.

"Yeah?"

"We have a... problem..."

Problem.

My head fills with thoughts of being swarmed by police, locked in a cell and forced to fight off everyone who looks at me sideways.

"What do you mean, problem ?"

"Come look for yourself."

I groan, irritation taking over. I'm not taking my eyes off Khan until I know for sure he's so dead he's blue beneath that tape.

Fucking asshole isn't wearing a shirt, so I can't exactly drag him by his collar.

I roll my eyes, bending over to grab him and throw him over my shoulder. The thought of his piss and blood on me is disgusting, and I don't know how I'll explain having to change my shirt to Soren, but that's a problem for later.

"What?" I snap, following Wes' voice to where I heard it coming from.

There's a door open in the living room, and I step toward it, searching for my accomplice.

Wes stands in the middle of the steps, looking like he's seen a fucking ghost.

"What the fuck are you doing in the basement?"

"I heard something!" Wes says. "Come down here. Hurry. Fuck . Who is this guy?"

"Move out of the way." I snap, nodding my head to the side. Wes follows my direction easily, and I heft Khan down the steps.

His body bounces, rolls, nearly knocks Wes off the steps, and finally comes to a stop in the center of the space I can see.

Wes glares at me as I follow.

"Well, you're the one who made me come here. I wasn't going to take the chance he got away."

"I don't think he's getting away." Wes says. "I think you just cracked his skull like eggs for a fucking omelet."

I snort, stepping over Khan's body and looking around for the source of the problem Wes mentioned.

It doesn't take me long to find it.

I sweep my head to the left, and my eyes connect with hers.

A fucking problem, indeed.