by K. Webster
He doesn’t answer, so I fire a shot into his shoulder. The scream he lets out belongs to a teenaged girl, not a man.
“You psycho cunt!”
“How many girls have you raped?”
Snot dribbles down his lip and he shudders. “I don’t know.”
“Guess, asshole!”
He trembles. “Uh, six maybe?”
Six maybe?
Somehow I doubt that’s true.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Fuck, uh, fine. Maybe twenty or thirty.”
I snort and straddle his waist. His one eye widens as he gapes at me in horror. But his stupid dick hardens beneath me. This asshole will always fuck with girls because he can’t even manage to keep his cock soft when his eyeball is about to fall out and he has a bullet in his shoulder.
“Oh,” I chide. “You’re very bad, Pico.”
He starts to cry, but I’ll be damned if his cock doesn’t throb beneath me.
“You need some relief, baby,” I purr as I grip his jaw. “Need me to take care of that dick of yours?”
“Get away from me, puta!”
I laugh and obey the prick. For a moment. I find a discarded cola can and shove the barrel of the gun into the opening. The metal of the gun widens the opening. When I fire off another round, Pico screams. With the bottom of the can now bearing a hole, I push the gun through that hole too. Then, I regard him with an evil grin.
“Ready, Pico?”
“Get the fuck away from me,” he hisses as he holds up his free hand, as if that’ll protect him.
I pounce on him. When he tries to escape, I push the gun into his belly and fire off a shot that makes him scream louder than before. Both of his hands cover the hole that now spills with blood. While he’s distracted, I grab his mediocre dick in my hand and shove the can down over his erection. And then I crush the aluminum can around him with my fist.
Screams.
One long continuous one followed by another garbled one.
I sit on my butt and admire my handiwork. The head of his penis pokes out of the top of the can. Blood is everywhere.
“God, Pico, you’re messy,” I chide.
His hands try to pull the can away, but the sharp pieces of aluminum are digging into his sensitive flesh and preventing him from pulling it off. This makes me giggle.
“Y-You c-crazy f-f-fucking c-cunt,” he chatters through his tears.
I stand and glower at him. “You should have just given me the water.”
“Bitch!”
I smirk. “This bitch just fucked you up. By the way you’re bleeding, I suspect you’ll be dead before I even make it halfway back to the hotel. Goodbye, Pico.”
He moans and groans, but I can tell he’s weak. Blood spills from the hole in his stomach with every movement he makes. There’s no way he’ll live.
With a little wave at him, I tuck the gun into the back of my workout pants and tug the tank top over it to hide the bulge. As soon as I close the sliding glass door, I can no longer hear his cries over the waves. In the distance, the clouds are dark as a storm rolls in, making the water choppier.
I sprint the entire way back to the hotel with a giant smile on my face.
Pico, that sick rapist, really knew how to cheer a girl up.
I WAKE TO the sound of a shower running. It’s dark out now and thunder rumbles nearby. I can’t believe I slept for half the day. Now that we’re here, away from my family, I can relax a bit. I don’t have to watch Hannah’s every move. We both needed the breather.
I slip out of bed and push my boxers down to join her in the shower. After a quick brush of my teeth, I find her under the spray, washing her hair.
“Hey, beautiful,” I murmur as I draw her soapy body to me.
Her sudsy fingers find my shoulders and she beams at me. Clarity makes her eyes shimmer with light. She’s fucking stunning. “Hey, handsome.”
I tug her hair, so she looks up, and help her rinse the soap from it. Once she’s clean, I grip her jaw and kiss her plump lips.
“What’d you do while I slept?”
My little liar bites on her lip. “Nothing much.”
I snort. “Try again.”
“Went for a run.” Deception still flickers in her pretty eyes.
“Hannah,” I warn, my fingers biting into her flesh. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”
Her fingers wrap around my cock, and she grips it hard. “I met a rapist.”
I stiffen and glare at her. “Did he hurt you?”
A sexy smile plays on those dick sucking lips. “He tried.”
I pull her to me and kiss the top of her head. She wraps her arms around my body. Her tits seem fuller than normal, smashed between us.
“What did you do?”
She looks up at me and wickedness gleams in her eyes. “I made sure he won’t rape any more girls ever again.”
My heart is hammering in my chest. I should yell at her for so many things. But all I can do is kiss her supple lips.
“My good girl,” I praise. “God, I love you.”
I grip her ass and lift her. She wraps her legs around my backside just as I push my cock into her wet cunt. I fuck her hard against the wall until she’s screaming my name and clawing her nails down my shoulder. After I come deep inside her, I pull out of her and continue cleaning her perfect body. Small silvery stretch marks color the pale flesh near her hips, but I love the physical reminder of the children she grew inside her. Our children.
“What are we doing tonight?”
I cradle her face in my palm and grin at her. “I’m taking you to dinner. And then…”
“Dancing?”
I snort. “Better than that. We’re going to do something fun after a little shopping.”
“Oooh,” she says, her eyes glimmering with mischief. “I’m excited.”
“Wear black.”
She arches a blonde brow at me. “This gets better and better.”
“And maybe real shoes. Don’t wear any fucking flip-flops.”
“Yes, sir,” she sasses and gives me a faux salute. “Anything else?”
I cup her pussy. “I’d like if this was easily accessible. Can you do that, sweet girl?”
She beams at me and nods.
“Good girl. Now get your ass ready so we can have some fun.”
While Hannah blow dries her hair, I call Ren.
“How’s my girl?” I ask in greeting when he answers.
“Good. What’s up?”
I launch into what I need from him. It’s asking a lot, I know. But, unlike his father, he doesn’t argue. He simply takes note of my instructions and vows to fulfill my requests. Lastly, I give him the address before hanging up.
Just in time too.
Hannah shuts off the hairdryer and saunters into the room, with just a towel wrapped around her. I want to yank it off and nibble on her tits but I’m fucking starving for real food.
“Hurry and get dressed,” I tell her as I pinch her ass through the towel. “We have reservations in twenty minutes.”
She throws on a halter top black dress with a lovely open back and a plunging neckline. And like the obedient girl she is, she leaves off her panties and bra. I love that she’s a stunner even without any makeup on. Then, she pulls on a tiny pair of white socks before slipping into a pink pair of Chucks. The shoes don’t go with the dress, but she still looks fuck hot.
“Keep looking at me like you want to eat me and we may never leave this place,” she says with a smirk.
I laugh and grab her hand. “Come on. We have shit to do.”
Dinner was at the hotel and it was fucking delicious. They reserved a romantic table near the windows for us where we could watch the lightning. The storm seems to have stalled off in the distance and hasn’t come ashore yet, but it won’t be long before it reaches us. Once we’ve eaten, I pull up the address War found me, and we take a cab to the location, which is in a seedy part of town. The building is a pile of crap but it holds
what we need.
“Let’s do this, sweet girl,” I instruct as I toss a wad of bills at the driver.
She climbs out, and the wind whips her dress up. My sexy girl doesn’t even bother with fighting to push it back down. With the moon shining on her blonde head and her round ass on full display, she’s like some bad angel cast from heaven, luring men straight to hell. She simply struts up to the dilapidated building with her fine ass on display for me and the cabbie. And sure enough, when I glance at him, he’s checking her out.
“Beat it,” I snarl before trotting after her.
I tug the dress back down over her ass and guide her inside the building. It’s dark and run-down inside, but a friendly guy greets us.
“Can I help you? Americans?” he chirps, his eyes nearly bugging out with dollar signs, like in the cartoons. He’s a slimy bastard and greedy as hell. I can practically see him trying to calculate how much money he can make off us.
“Knives. I was told you had knives.” I smile at him. “And other things.”
His gaze flickers over to Hannah before he meets my stare. A question dances in his eyes. Are you going to kill her?
I smirk. Eventually, I’m sure. But not today. “My girl needs one too.”
At this, he laughs. It’s boisterous and over the top. “Oh, I have something to suit both your needs.”
We follow him down the dark hallway toward the back. Hannah squeezes my hand. Not because she’s nervous but because she’s excited. My wife loves an adventure.
The room is brightly lit up with weapons lining the walls. Guns and knives and shit I wouldn’t even know what to do with hang from hooks all over the place. I point at a backpack. “I want that.”
The man pulls it down and sets it on a table. “You going to fill it up?”
Hannah glances over at me. “Please, Daddy?”
I snort and nod. “Fill it up, sweet girl.”
The man, upon realizing that Hannah might be my daughter, takes a moment to check out her tits. So I walk up behind her and give them a squeeze. I meet his shocked stare and shrug. “She’s got nice tits,” I tell him and give one of her nipples a pinch. “Am I right?”
He nods and quickly picks up sharp long blade with an ivory handle. “This one is good for skinning.”
She takes it from him and holds it up. “Too big.”
I snag it from her and run my thumb along the blade. “Skinning you say?”
He nods again.
“I want it.”
Hannah laughs and gives me a quick smile before picking up a smaller knife. “I like this one.”
“Bag it, baby.”
The man seems pleased with our splurge. I toss in some handcuffs and a bundle of rope. He has everything we could possibly need—even a battery-operated light and a fifth of the country’s best rum.
“Is that all?” the man questions, a weasel smile on his face.
I point behind him at a black-handled machete. “I want that too.”
He obliges and then starts calculating my total. It’s astronomical and obnoxious but I pull out a wad of bills and pay the man. After he counts it three times, he waves us toward the door.
“Thank you for doing business with us. Colombia welcomes you.”
With the heavy-ass backpack slung over my shoulder, I take Hannah’s hand and start walking toward our destination. I had War book us our hotel for a reason. It was close to where I wanted to go.
“A storm is coming,” she says and points to the ocean where lightning illuminates the sky.
I squeeze her hand. “You have no idea, baby.”
Under the moonlight with the wind kicking up her hair, I’m reminded of how much I love her. Hannah is my soulmate. My dark, dirty, hellion of a woman. It’s been quite the ride to get us to this point. I don’t want to lose her. Not now, not ever.
As we walk, I think about that emptiness I see in her eyes sometimes. I hate when that look presents itself in front of the children. They don’t understand that their mother is sick. Toto takes it the hardest because she’s older. She cries when Mommy is being cold toward her. I wish I could reach into Hannah’s sick mind and patch up the hole that sometimes sucks all humanity from her.
And God how I’ve tried.
War and I have made her take every medicine we could get our hands on. Baylee has spent countless hours researching her daughter’s mental illnesses. I’ve tried to preempt her moods and intervene. I’m good at distracting my wife but I never know how long it will work. And what happens when I’m not there to distract her? All it takes is one moment.
Guilt surges through me. I can’t do that to my kids. I can’t risk their lives. Their mother is unhinged and unstable. She’s a vase full of cracks, and one day, water will gush out, drowning those she loves in the process. I’ve plugged those cracks, but I’m afraid I can’t do that any longer.
There is only one way to save them.
“You’re quiet,” she murmurs.
I pull her into my arms and kiss her forehead. “I love you, baby. No matter what. Always and forever. And when this life is no longer ours, we’ll rejoin in hell where nothing can stop us.”
She tilts her chin up and beams at me. “My Hades.”
I cup her jaw with my palm and run my thumb along her pink bottom lip. “My Persephone.”
Her fingers grip the front of my shirt as she pulls me to her. Our mouths meet in a needy kiss. I’ll never get enough of kissing her. If I had it my way, I’d keep kissing her until I’m old and on my deathbed. Then, I’d just kiss her until I take my last breath.
Something tells me it won’t be so easy.
I slide my palm to her throat and run my fingertips along her vein. Her pulse is steady. Always so steady.
A crack of thunder makes us both jump. We pull away from our kiss, both of us panting for more.
“Come on,” I bark. “We’re almost there.”
We pick up the pace down a desolate road that seems like it hardly ever sees any travelers. This is good because I don’t need anyone seeing my ugly mug and screwing up my plans. The first raindrop that hits the back of my neck is cold. The second and third seem colder. When the heavens open up and rain down on us, I start running toward a chain-link fence. It’s not electric, thank God, so I easily snap through the metal with the wire cutters I bought from the weasel guy earlier. I make a hole big enough for us to crawl through and send her through it first.
I should worry about dogs or some shit, but War has already given me the layout of the premises, and they don’t have any vicious animals protecting the property. What they have is worse. They have big-ass Colombians with AK-47s strapped to their chests surrounding the perimeter. But, according to War, they don’t have as many at night, and they mostly protect the front gate. Hannah and I should be good.
“What are we doing here?” she hisses. Her eyes flicker with excitement. My sweet girl is always down to be bad.
“You’ll see,” I tell her.
According to War’s intel, one particular shipping container sees a lot of action. It isn’t guarded at night, but during the day, people come and go. Even Brie’s friend Vee and that fuckface Diego. War sent me some footage from when he hacked into their security system. What I’ve been looking for was last seen dragging a naked girl into the container months and months ago. He never came out, but she did. If he were dead, I doubt they would visit all the time, nor would it be so well guarded. And with what Brie told me about what happened to Vee when she went missing, I know it has to be him.
“This way,” I bark out above the howling wind and pouring rain.
She runs behind me, along the outer perimeter. The shipping containers are stacked high and go on for as far as the eye can see. I finally find the one I’m looking for. It’s older than the rest and hidden in the very back.
“What’s inside?” she demands.
I smirk and use yet another tool I bought from that weasel. The fucker didn’t even blink twice when I filled my bag wi
th all this bizarre shit. But, he had all of said bizarre shit up for sale, so I guess it isn’t that strange to a guy like him.
A bolt lock sits on the door handle. I unzip my backpack and pull out a crowbar. Once I wedge the metal in the lock, I throw all my weight down over and over again until the lock snaps. Hannah reaches forward and pulls the broken lock away.
I grab the machete and ready my weapon as I tug open the door with a noisy creak that is drowned out by the storm. My wife stands behind me, and together we walk inside. She manages to turn the light on, and soon the long narrow container is lit up. It reeks of feces and body odor and death. The emaciated form on the mattress rolls over and squints against the light.
“Is this…” Hannah trails off and takes a step forward, her wet shoes squeaking on the metal.
“Yep.”
Her voice becomes a hiss. “Estebaaaaaaaaaaan.”
HE PROMISED ME. Not long ago, after we found out what happened to Brie, I’d been enraged on her behalf. Having been a rape victim myself, it made me crazy furious that this Esteban dude fucked my husband’s daughter. What’s his is mine. Esteban raped what’s mine. I told her I would kill him one day. Gabe promised me our chance would come. I never doubted my man for a second.
Esteban is naked and shivering. His black hair is long and hangs in his face. A black, coarse beard covers his cheeks and mouth.
“Help,” he croaks out.
Gabe stays back, but I approach and set the lamp on the floor once I’m close. “Help with what, honey?” I coo in a sugary sweet voice.
“Help me, please.”
I look over my shoulder and Gabe stands with his back to the open container. His shoulders are broad and his chest heaves. My man is a barely contained storm. He wants to rage and make this man suffer for what he did to Brie. And what kind of wife would I be if I didn’t help him?
“Can you move?” I question, my voice soft and concerned.
He tries to sit up but he’s too weak. “I can’t,” he grunts. “You have to get me out of here.”
I stroke his hair out of his face so I can look into the eyes of a sicko. “Who’s done this to you?”
