"I think you're soulmates. She's got exactly the same dose of crazy as you."
I register his words, but I can't imagine my Roxanne, the woman with every strand perfectly arranged and always a delicate trace of lipstick on her lips, torturing someone.
After I manage to get the shirt and a pair of jeans on, I leave the room with Vasili behind me.
It takes me ten times longer than normal to reach the basement, and I have to stop to breathe at every step, but when I see the individual who raised a gun in my house, his entire torso transformed into a mass of raw meat, I forget any trace of pain.
"I have to admit you had your fun in my absence," I tell the soldiers who instinctively retreat when they see me.
"Please," the guy hisses, not understanding he hasn't found salvation in my presence.
That bullet could have touchedher. That bullet destroyedherwedding dress. That bullet put tears inhereyes, and though I'm glad she feels that much emotion at the thought of me being hurt, the image ofherwet eyes triggers a wave of pure rage.
There aren't many layers of skin left to peel off him, but I'm inventive with my blades.
His eyes narrow when he sees me approaching, and I'd like to amplify the terror he's feeling right now even more.
Blade in hand, I signal one of the boys to hold his head still.
It takes me less than a minute to cut off an ear, which will go as a souvenir to my dear mother.
"I think I forgot to mention he insulted Roxy when she came down here," Vasili says from behind me, and that's all the motivation I need to push the pain in my abdomen to a corner of my mind.
"You dared look at my woman and say anything other than words of reverence?"
His eyes are closed, but he manages to make a sound I don't recognize. He's more dead than alive at this point, but his lack of respect for her makes me think of ways to keep him alive longer.
But as much as I'd like to do that, I have a lot to sort out, from my own house's security to the psychopath stalking my wife, so I drag the blade across his throat, giving him a gentler death than he deserved.
I look at all the blood that's pooled on the concrete and know the cleaning crew will have a few busy days getting all the fluids out.
My abdomen is burning, so I wash my hands and climb the stairs.
Vasili is behind me and offers me his arm for support. Normally I'd smack him upside the head, but I feel dizzy and don't need to break my neck on these stairs.
"Your wife's going to cut me up if she sees you like this," he mutters.
"She loves me," I hiss through gritted teeth.
"Relax, you'll be on her shit list too if she notices your bandage is stained with blood."
"Fuck."
When we finally reach the bedroom, Roxanne is at a vanity getting ready, and when our eyes meet in the mirror, I can see exactly how badly she wants to kill me.
"Do I really need to tie you to the bed?" she asks, and I can't avoid the smile that spreads across my face.
"Baby, give me a few days and I'll personally bring you the handcuffs," I tell her, forcing myself to push the pain somewhere to the back of my mind.
In moments she's beside Vasili, throwing him a look that would freeze Hell itself.
"And you're going to make sure he stays in that bed until I get back," she tells him firmly.
Vasili nods and leaves the room when she guides me to the bed.
"Where are you going?" I manage to ask as my body sinks into the mattress.
"Marco Agosti called about another party that needs planning, so I'm going to gather the necessary information."
