About to die…
My vision tunneled.
A snarl broke free as I peeled off a square of her stalker’s flesh with a vicious tear.
Another howl rattled the bare bulb illuminating the space.
I didn’t indulge in these warehouse sessions often. The people who crossed me had to have committed sins great enough to warrant such treatment, and like I’d said, I didn’t like getting blood on my clothes.
But hurting Stella? There was no crime greater than that in my book.
The sounds of Julian’s screams and pleas drowned beneath the tidal wave of my anger. My world shrank to one that consisted solely of metal, blood, and agony. The snap of bone, the wet sound of tearing flesh, the barest elements of a man spilling from the seams of his gutted torso like stuffing from an old doll.
I could’ve spent the entire day working on Julian. Twenty-four hours was nothing compared to the months of hell he’d put Stella through.
Perhaps I would’ve, had I not returned to the table to swap my dull, overworked knife for a fresh one and saw the message waiting for me.
I’d left my phone next to the blades. The text onscreen was comically out of place, a jarring reminder that life existed outside these walls.
Stella: Come home to me.
My breathing slowed.
I was drenched with sweat and splattered with blood. My usual restraint had snapped beneath the weight of Stella’s hurt, but her words tethered me back to earth.
An image of Stella looking at me with those soft, knowing green eyes that morning replaced the warehouse.
Don’t give him any pieces of your soul.
I’d thought I didn’t have any left, but I was wrong. There was one remaining piece, and it belonged to her.
Crimson gradually retreated from my vision.
I dropped the knife and stared at the broken down, barely conscious man hanging on the wall.
The urge to make him suffer longer was still there, coiled like a vicious snake in my gut.
But the desire to return to Stella was stronger.
Come home to me.
“You got lucky,” I said.
I picked up my gun.
Three strategically placed shots later, Stella’s stalker was nothing more than a lifeless, bloodied heap of flesh.
For her, I’d given him the greatest mercy I was capable of giving: a quicker death.
I left the basement while Steele and Mason swooped in to clean up the mess.
The torture didn’t faze them; they were even more comfortable with the warehouse sessions than I was.
Unlike Kage, they also had no ambition other than to excel in the roles they already held. It was why I’d selected them to oversee Julian’s detainment.
Still, I would have to overhaul the company processes after I returned to the office. Change access codes, restructure teams. I didn’t want to risk another Kage situation.
But until then…
I entered the warehouse’s bathroom, washed off the blood, changed my clothes, and went home to Stella.
* * *