By the time Khane was within arm’s length of me, my captor had extracted his back-up gun. He lifted it, aiming to shoot, but it was too late. Death had gotten to him first.
I was snatched from the man’s hold, the sheer strength and force sent me stumbling in Patrena’s direction. She and I gripped each other, clinging for dear life as the quake in our distressed bodies mingled. Our robes had come apart, but modesty wasn’t something we were concerned with at that moment.
By the time I turned back in Khane’s direction, the loud pounding continued to connect with the bloody sight of the man’s rearranged face. The butt of Khane’s gun was the source of the vicious licks.
The man’s attempt to fight back was useless, although he was as tall and bulkier than Khane. His big, beaten, and battered body jerked with every blow that was pounded into him. Khane bent and sent his shoulder into the man’s chest. He reached around the man’s body before he lifted and slammed the big man on the floor. He proceeded to place the heel of his heavy black boot against the man’s windpipe before he reached out for me.
“Come here. Are you okay?”
Since common sense and words had escaped me, a shaky nod was all I was capable of in the moment. I moved closer to Khane’s outstretched hand, dragging Patrena along because we refused to let each other go.
My wide-eyed gaze kept dropping to the man under Khane’s boot as his terror was playing out in his desperate gaze and frantic body movement. He fought, beating against Khane’s muscled leg but failed to get the pressure of the boot lifted from his neck.
Once I was within reach, Khane caressed my cheek. “Does it hurt?” His fingers traced delicately over the area where the man had slapped me. I could feel my head shaking robotically, but my eyes were glued on Khane’s. The initial pain from the slap had long been forgotten, and although I couldn’t see it, I knew that the man had left a bruise.
“This motherfucker put his hands on you,” he stated. It seemed it almost pained him to say the words. His thumb traced tenderly across my bruised cheek a second time, momentarily taking my mind out of the chaos unfolding. His eyes rested on mine. The ease in them calming and showing me his caring side even as the man under his feet continued to struggle for his life.
Patrena’s grip around my forearm tightened, reminding me that she was there. The tail of Khane’s shirt at his waist was gripped tight in my free hand. I could feel the jerks in Khane’s body from the man’s frantic attempts to break free.
“He put…” The sound of a sickening crunch drew my attention to the struggling man. His groans sounded like there was dirt in his throat. “…His fucking…” Another crunch of bone sounded more prominent as the vibration from the breaks breezed over the surface of my cheek through Khane’s fingertips.
Patrena’s body had gone still at the sight of what Khane was doing. Each time he added words, he would press his boot harder into the man’s neck, crushing bones and siphoning his life piece by piece like he needed to prolong the process.
“…Hands on you.” Khane finished his statement. His body jolted, but his fingers remained steady on my cheek when his boot heel sank into the man’s throat and crushed what was left of his windpipe.
The final hard crush of bone sounded and sent an icy chill racing through me. I sensed the man’s life evaporating from him, getting as far away from Khane as possible.
The dreadful sight had frozen me; my cheek still pressed against Khane’s tender caress, but my eyes were aimed down on the man under his boot. Wide, haunted eyes stared as the light in them dimmed until there was none left.
The man’s vacant expression was as empty as the devil’s heart, giving me a glimpse of what one must look like when they were staring into the face of Death. The look was filled with spine-curling horror and pain, and it had etched itself so deeply in my head, it would haunt me forever.
A question tipped past the nightmares that were filing themselves away in my mind. What version of Death had the man seen staring at him, the dead one or the living one—Khane?
“Are you guys, okay?” Khane questioned, snapping out of whatever murderous trance he had been in. Patrena stood slightly behind me, glaring around my shoulder at Khane. I was receiving a live visual and understanding of why they called him ‘The Kannibal,’ as it appeared a dark part of his personality fed on the man’s death.
“We have to go,” he urged, finally stepping off the man’s broken neck. I believed he wanted me to experience the man’s death, while he was viciously killing him in my honor.
Khane turned, preparing to lead us to the back door we had failed to reach twice already. A hard shove came out of nowhere, sending me behind Khane and colliding into Patrena.
“What?”
My question was cut short when two more guys walked in, both with their weapons aimed at Khane.
What the hell were we going to do now?