“Let’s see how much you enjoy this when you’re on the receiving end,” Rowan grits out, and before Harvey can fall to his side, Rowan kicks him in the face, his heel a loud thud when it connects just between Harvey’s thick brows.
Harvey falls to his back, stunned and groaning, barely conscious. His blood-streaked head wobbles from one side to the next in a cloud of dust. Rowan stands over him and tightens his grip on the handle of the ax. Rage and focus sharpen the features of his beautiful face. Malice flashes in his eyes as he glares down at his enemy. “This is going to be so fucking satisfying,” he says, looming over Harvey with a lethal smile. He raises the ax.
“Wait—” I say as I step away from the safety of the tractor. Rowan stops instantly, though it looks like it takes everything in him to do so. “Don’t kill him yet. You promised me a turn.”
A dark grin sneaks across my face as I approach. Rowan surveys my expression with a flicker between his brows, an unvoiced question passing between us that I answer with a wider smile.
“But feel free to keep him occupied,” I say, and then I head toward the house.
Autumn’s screams have gone blessedly silent in the torrent of the storm that still rains down on us. It will be slow going for her on foot with no shoes, but she’ll find help eventually if she follows the creek or double-backs to the front of the house to take the path that leads to the gravel road. It’s a fair distance to the nearest neighbors and the road doesn’t see much traffic, but we can’t bank on the remoteness working in our favor. I know we can’t stay too long.
Just long enough to have a little fun.
I don’t linger in the house, working quickly to collect what I need before heading back to the barn.
A string of expletives greets me as I near the old building. Rowan appears amused by the colorful vitriol as he hammers a metal spike through Harvey’s hand to keep him trapped against the ground, a similar implement already impaling his other palm. Rowan is so consumed by his work that he doesn’t notice me until I’m standing at the door.
It takes him a second to process what he’s seeing before he barks an incredulous laugh.
I drop what I’m carrying with my good arm and raise a finger to my lips around a fit of giggles. Tears cling to my lashes as hysterics threaten to consume me. I’m quite pleased with myself, I have to admit. This might just be one of the best ideas I’ve had in a long time. And I want to make the most of the impact, so with a few choppy hand motions, I manage to communicate that I want Rowan to block me from Harvey’s view. He nods and stands between us as I maneuver through the shadows, creeping closer with my coveted prize.
When I get to Harvey’s feet, I lay my little gift on his ankles and start sliding it up his legs.
Harvey groans when I graze his injured knee. He looks down the length of his body and meets the vacant eyes of his mother.
Harvey Mead lets out a blood-blistering scream.
“You’ve been a terribly bad boy, Harvey,” I say in my best imitation of an old woman’s voice as I continue sliding the corpse toward Harvey’s face. He struggles, trying to kick it off, but Rowan intervenes and holds his good leg down.
“Good boys don’t chop people up with chainsaws.”
Another desperate scream. He’s absolutely losing his shit and can’t do anything about it.
I take my sweet, sweet time. I enjoy every second of Harvey’s torture, slowly dragging Mama Mead up his torso as strained breaths saw from his chest. His pulse pounds in his thick neck. Sweat beads across his creased forehead, dripping down his temples as he shakes his head.
Mama Mead and Harvey finally come face to face.
“I think you deserve to be punished.”
“This is very dark,” Rowan says behind me, though he doesn’t sound like he’s complaining.
“Shush, you. Mama Mead’s got some things to say.” I jostle the corpse’s head around as Harvey screams and squirms. The dentures fall out of her mouth to land on his face and he enters another dimension of fear. “Oops, my bad.”
I set Mama Mead down on his chest so I can grab her brittle wrist, keeping my injured arm out of the way as Harvey tries to thrash her off. Her curved fingers stroke his face before I hook them into the corner of his mouth. “Hold on, son. I just want to crawl inside and have a look around.”
Harvey lets out a keening wail.
And then he gasps for air, gulps for it as though it won’t go in, his face a contorted grimace.
“Uhh…”