I switch the blade off, curl my fingers in his bottom teeth and yank it down, and drop the now detached piece of skin down his throat. Then I work to cauterize the wound, preventing him from bleeding out while I’m gone.
I’m not quite done with him yet.
It wasn’t hard to track down where Luke lives. The imbecile posts his entire life on social media anyway. Except for the fact that he’s keeping a girl hostage in his house. They always seem to forget those details.
Indiscernible screaming can be heard through the doors of his home. A loud crash follows, and I smile, already knowing I’m going to walk in on Daya giving this guy hell.
I slide my pin into the keyhole and jam it, breaking the lock. And then I walk into his house as if I’m walking into my favorite burger joint.
“Why do you always have to move?” Luke shouts from down the hallway. I slide out my gun and start spinning the silencer on as I make my way towards the ruckus. “I’m trying to take care of you!”
When I round the corner, I stop short.
Daya is tied to a chair, tipped over on the side, with her arms trapped uncomfortably beneath her weight. She’s screaming through the tape stuck to her mouth, death radiating in her glare. When she spots me, her eyes widen, and then she starts wriggling fiercely as if she’s trying to make her presence known.
Can’t really see her any clearer when she’s right in my face.
Noticing Daya’s reaction, Luke turns his head, and his own eyes pop open before he scrambles for his gun. I shoot the back of his knee before he makes it a step, feeling nothing even as he falls to the ground with an agonized shout.
“Simmer down, Daya,” I say, walking over to her. “I can see you. Wiggling like a worm on a hook is only going to rub your skin even rawer.”
She huffs, impatiently waiting as I lift both her and the chair up as one, untie her from the ropes, and help her up. She takes one look at me, noting the dark circles under my eyes and the hollowness in my gaze, and wraps herself around me.
I blink, freezing for a moment before I sling an arm around her. Immediately, she breaks out into a fit of tears, her sobs vibrating my chest. I place a hand on the back of her neck and squeeze reassuringly. It’s the only thing I can think to do to let her know that I’m here and that she’s safe.
My throat is too tight to speak because as relieved as I am that Daya is okay, I’m incapable of actually feeling it.
“Please tell me you know where she is,” she begs, clenching my hoodie in her grip.
I sigh, grab her by the arms, and gently pull her away. She looks no better than I do. Her sage green eyes are bloodshot from crying, black, straight hair disheveled, and bruises mar her deep brown skin.
“Not yet,” I whisper, unable to speak the disappointing words any louder. Her eyes close in defeat, but she nods her head.
“We’ll find her. We will.”
“What did he do to you?” I ask, bringing the conversation back to the parasite dragging himself on the floor towards his gun. It’s resting on a coffee table ten feet away from him. I turn and shoot the gun, sending it skidding across the floor and under his white couch.
I bet not a single ass has ever sat on that thing.
“Nothing that I haven’t let him do before,” she mumbles.
I cock my head. “We both know this time around wasn’t consensual.”
She looks away, appearing embarrassed.
“You know you didn’t ask for any of this, right?” I remind her, shaking her just enough to emphasize my point. She nods her head, though she doesn’t look entirely convinced.
“Max is at my place. Let’s take care of Luke here. You can even release some pent-up anger if you want.”
I go to turn, but she stops me, her hand wrapped tightly around my wrist.
“Don’t lose your humanity yet, Zade. Addie is strong, and she will survive this.”
I stare at her, and I wonder if she can see something inside me that I can’t.
“It’s already gone.”
I pound harder. Fuck, I need to do it harder.
The answering moans send a shot of pleasure down my spine.
And every time I hear it, all I can think about is Addie. I can never stop thinking about her, even as the begging follows the screams. Harder.
“Please.” The plea is breathless. But it’s not good enough.
“Please, what?” I demand through gritted teeth, sweat dripping down my temple from exerting myself.
It’s still not enough.
It never will be. Not until I have Addie again.