“What about you?” Hawk finally asks Falcon.
We all look over at him, and he offers a smile. “If we can get a handful back, it’s a win in my book. I won’t trust this asshole until I see evidence, or I see either the twins, or your sister,” he says to Hawk.
“I have to agree,” Hawk says with a nod. “I don’t trust anyone until I see proof, living fucking proof.”
“What about the revenge you need on my father?” Lucille asks.
“She’s right,” I murmur. “The thought of walking away from something we worked so hard on for years, is tragic. I don’t want to lose. I don’t want to see him walk off without paying for what he did.”
“Then perhaps we make him pay,” Falcon says. “We don’t have to kill him, but we can most definitely ensure he never hurts anyone ever again.”
“What did you have in mind?” I smirk, thinking of all the ways we can do damage without killing the bastard.
“Why don’t we each have a turn? Unless you want to watch?” Falcon questions, his face flicking to each of us. I don’t think Lucille will want to be there when I take my turn. I’m going to make her father regret the day he was born.
“I want to see,” she pipes up suddenly. “I want to see everything. I’m not some fragile little girl anymore.” Her confidence is an aphrodisiac. I want her more than I ever expected to. She’s here, claimed and owned by us, she’s never leaving.
“Are you sure?” I ask, knowing whatever each of us have planned will not be pretty to watch. She’s still innocent, mostly, compared to the rest of us. Lucille hasn’t seen the darkness we have. As much as she thinks she has.
“Yes,” her confidence brims through her eyes, shining like a star in the darkest night.
“Okay,” I nod, moving to stand. I offer her a hand and pull her to stand. “If you want to leave at any point, the door will be open.”
Those golden orbs lock on mine, and her smile is infectious as she regards me. “I’m not leaving.” Her words hold a deeper meaning. It’s not only about the rest of this evening, it’s about forever.
“Then we best get on with it,” I tell her as I lead her, along with my brothers down to the basement. When we reach Mahoney, he’s still holding on for dear life. There’s no longer anything standing in my way. I leave Lucille at the entrance with Hawk and Falcon. “It’s time to pay your penance,” I say as I pick up a sharp, metal spoke. The thick steel is about ten inches long, and it’s got tiny ridges on it which make it look like there are blades shooting off from the main spike.
“Do what you must,” he bites out, his eyes on Lucille which only seems to incite violence inside me. My blood boils, races through my veins as I watch him look at her. I don’t want any other man’s eyes on my girl. Our girl.
I take the steel weapon and I slide it along his face, the crimson bursts from the tiny cuts looks like a pretty pattern of violence. I stop when I reach his crotch.
“This is for my brothers,” I tell him as I round his hanging body and stop behind him. The slick metal slices through his suit pants until I hear the cries of agony from the man who needs to pay for his sins.
I smile when I see blood drenching his slacks. The deep crimson nothing more than a dye which darkens the material. “Does it feel good?” Falcon questions, his voice taking on a sinister tone. “Because we all known how much you wanted boys for your own violent desires.”
I twist the weapon, the metal slicing through flesh. But then I notice the flick of a lighter, and Hawk has stepped forward. He holds the dancing flame to Mahoney’s nose, the amber flicker singes hairs, and then, the stench of burning flesh violates my nostrils.
“This is for my sister,” Hawk tells Mahoney. “Does it feel good?” The question is one I know to be Mahoney’s signature. Most serial killers have a tell. It’s how they become famous, and this was his. The gentle tone of his voice, asking the question as he violated multitudes of innocents.
The squirming agony emanates from our captive is what I’d always dreamed about. A metallic scent hangs in the air. Blood—it has the perfume of violence, and the fragrance of vengeance.
“I spent my life wanting this, craving it,” I tell our victim. “Now it’s here, it’s better than I ever imagined.”
Mahoney’s gaze lifts to mine. He looks nothing like this daughter. He’s nothing like her and she doesn’t take after him at all. She’s kind, sweet, she enjoys seeing people smile. The man before me is a monster, and his own flesh and blood hasn’t even captured those traits. He is nothing.