“Thereit is.” She chuckles. “Did you miss me? You told me I was the best fuck you ever had. Right in front of my brother, no less.” She shakes her head. “I'll admit, I was hoping your little friend who beat the hell out of my brother was going to be here tonight. But he's not part of your little poker nights, is he? Guess I’ll have to get him another time.”
“I'm sorry!” He sobs, snot and tears streaming down his face as he realizes now why he's here and why he’s going to die.
We've realized it at the same time, too.
“You fucking raped my wife?”
I want to hear him admit to it.
The beast is straining at every bar of his cage, desperate to be unleashed to wreak havoc and rain fury down on the man who hurt my girl.
My fucking everything.
“I didn't know it was your brother!” He sobs again, as if raping her in front of a friend or her boyfriend would have been better. It wouldn't. He shouldn’t have touched her at all, but he can’t help himself. It’s who he is.
“It's okay.” She says softly. “I'm not going to hurt you.”
“Well, I sure as fuck am.” I snap, lunging at him with the knife.
“Just keep him alive.” She says gently. “I don't want it to be quick.”
39
Amber
It'snotquick.
He fucking suffers, maybe worse than I did.
He doesn't know the humiliation of a truck full of people watching him be ruined, but he knows the humiliation of his friends watching.
I would have loved for his sister to be here to witness a little of his hell, since he was witness to all of hers, but I didn't want to retraumatize her. Besides, I didn't know how to sell that to Cal.
I didn't inform him that Jenko was the one who raped the girl in the truck, who told her she had to pick the next person, who dragged me out of my brother's arms and tore my clothes from me, who forced his way inside me while his friend beat my brother to death inches away from me.
I could tell the revelation wasn't a pleasant surprise for him, but I have one more.
Jenko says sorry so many times that the word starts to sound funny, like it's foreign, like I've never heard it before.
It bears no meaning to begin with, but even less when it's been sobbed and screamed and choked out for the last hour. He was still saying sorry when Cal cut his tongue out of his mouth and threw it at Bear's head, making the big man scream into his makeshift gag, which is Browen's blood-soaked boxers.
I tried to give him the chance to swallow the testicle I mangled, but he refused, so now it just gets to sit in his mouth until he chokes on his own vomit or swallows it down.
I'm fine with either outcome.
Browen has turned into a little bitch, curled up in the fetal position at my feet as I sit cross-legged on the table they thought they’d be fucking me on top of. He's not aware enough to hear Bear's screaming or Jenko's now stunted cries and pleas.
He's dissociating, and I'll allow it for now.
The adrenaline hasn't waned. I'm still high on the rush, euphoric as I watch Cal at work. He's a goddamn beast, bent on the pain he's causing, the control he's languishing in.
I look coldly at the tongue on the floor, but it doesn't make me feel lightheaded or nauseous. I'm not the slightest bit squeamish about what we've done or what we're doing.
The ground has been soaked through with blood.
We're back in the room where Cal set everything up, this time with portable lamps in every corner, lighting the room like the film set he claimed it was.
“Babe,” I say gently once he's closed the Zippo he was holding to the severed stump of his tongue. The speculum that held his jaw open made it easy for Cal to see exactly where to slice... he simply started at the space the speculum stopped, where his tongue was tethered to the bottom of his soft palate.
