And that works for me.
He treats me like an adult.
I say I want this, and fine, I’ll get it. A fair deal, whatever happens, it’s on me.
Adults live with the shadow of consequences, and I’m an adult, that was raped into me.
I take off my hoodie. Then my T-shirt. I see Matt’s eyebrows lift slightly.
Standing over him, I straighten up. We look at each other. His gaze slides over my tattoos, but he doesn’t comment. Ennio stays silent too. Good, because in this room there is only raw, naked truth.
I take out the folding pocketknife I once got from my father for my tenth birthday, and cut the ties on Matt’s wrists and ankles, and he starts crawling out of the crate quickly, his legs obviously numb, so I step back a few steps and say,
"Massage them well so you get your circulation back."
"I don’t need your advice, you bastard. We’ll see what kind of tough guy you are in a moment," he growls, and then he lunges toward me with a quick jump.
But his movements are slow to me, predictable. He's taller and bigger but not nearly as fast as I am, so I dodge in an instant and punch him in the jaw from the side.
I put all my strength into it, the strength I held back inside myself back then during the arm wrestling with Uncle Timothy.
Matt collapses to the ground unconscious, teeth spilling from his mouth and blood flowing in a long stream.
One punch.
Ennio raises his brows with a sarcastic twist of his lips.
"Wow, you’ve got a punch."
"Told you I’d handle it."
Ennio makes a little gesture with his fingers like he’s saying, Oh well, suit yourself.
Matt is still unconscious. I lean over him and slap his cheeks a few times to bring him back.
"Do you want me to end your misery, Matt?"
Matt’s bloodshot eyes focus on me.
"You’re in for a lot of killing, bastard."
"I can’t wait," I say coldly, because in my mind I still see every moment of what happened in that warehouse.
"I will come for all of you. All."
And I swirl the knife in my hand.
"Wait! Please…!" Fear flashes in his eyes.
I tilt my head. "Oooo… gonna cry? I didn’t, remember? Be an alpha, Matt! Can you?"
It’s true, I didn’t. No matter what they did, I didn’t cry. I didn’t give them a single sign that I felt anything. I kept silent the whole time.
He trembles and cries out, "Please! Forgive me!"
But I don’t. I simply lean down and, in one deep, sharp movement, cut his throat.
It’s accompanied by a specific, crunchy sound of slicing through meat.
