It was the perfect opportunity.
A pathetic whimper draws my attention to the man crumpled on the concrete floor.
Noah.
The cumstain should’ve left town, but instead he stayed, which made it easy to find him, especially when he stands out like a sore thumb in Rosewood Bay. Same way scholarship students do at Crestwood University. And the residents—yeah, if you don’t belong, get the fuck out.
Mom got involved. Turns out, Mrs. Knight had been up the road when the piece of shit threw Mouse into the road. She saw the whole debacle and called my mother.
My parents called a mandatory family meeting, which led to me telling them I’m dating my coach. Their faces paled, my father growling as he asked which one. Kinda odd, more so when I revealed it was Beckett because they exhaled dramatically, their shoulders slumping as if relieved.
I told them about Noah and what he did, then Mom made a few calls and here we are.
Alexei's looming over him, a disgusted sneer twisting his lips. He draws his foot back and slams it into Noah's side, the sickening crack of breaking ribs echoing through the cavernous space.
Noah howls, curling in on himself like the spineless worm he is. I click my tongue, unimpressed.
“We're just getting started, bitch boy. You ain't seen nothing yet.”
“This going to be quick or painful?” Alexei asks as I stand beside him.
I shoot him a sharp grin, all teeth. “Oh, he's gonna scream. That's a fucking promise.”
Right now, the infamous Petrov bloodlust from my mother’s side is singing in my veins, the beast inside howling for Noah's head on a fucking platter.
And who am I to deny it?
“Don’t make this too long. I want to spend time with my Solnyshko.”
“I could’ve handled this myself. You didn’t have to come. I know Feisty Mouse is excited to see you.”
“Family first always, you dumb fuck.”
I snicker and look at him. “Yeah, how long before you officially make him family? You know you want to.”
I catch the way his lip twitches upward. Yup, my cousin’s definitely been thinking about marriage.
A pained groan from the floor reminds me that I've got more pressing matters to attend to. Namely, beating Noah's face in until it looks like roadkill pizza.
I crouch next to him, wrinkling my nose at the sharp stench of piss and terror. Fucking pathetic.
“Wakey, wakey, cumstain.” I sing-song the words, tapping his bruised cheek none-too-gently. “Time to pay the fucking piper.”
“Fuck you,” he slurs, blood bubbling over his split lips. “You crazy fucking bastard. You won't get away with this, I'll—"
“Shh, sweetie. Now, since you’re going to die anyway, I'm gonna give you a choice. Which hand do you want me to start beating you with, left or right?”
“P-please,” Noah stammers, tears and snot mingling with the blood on his face. Disgusting. “Please don't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry—”
“Didn't ask for a fucking soliloquy.” I snarl, patience evaporating as I fist my hand in his hair, wrenching his head back. He yelps, scrabbling weakly at my wrist. “Left or fucking right, shitstain. I won't ask again.”
“Left! Left, please, God—”
“There. Wasn't so hard, was it?”
My fist slams into his face, the crack of cartilage like a symphony as his nose shatters beneath my knuckles. He howls, high and thin, thrashing under me. The second punch collides with his cheek, the third to his eye socket. Each blow lands with satisfying crunches, the noise fueling my relentless assault.
“Okay, that's enough playtime, boys.” My mother's cool voice cuts through the haze of violence, startling me out of my trance. I look up, chest heaving as she makes her way to us, the heels of her boots clicking against the concrete floor.
