“Well, well,” he comments. “You came here to fuck me over, but looks like I’m going to come out on top. As usual.”
I snort. He glares at me, but he can’t hide the bulge in his breast pocket. In fact, he doesn’t seem to want to. He removes the object, gloating.
“Carrying around my little brother’s Bible, are you? Where’d you find it, anyway? Were you gonna taunt me with it before killing me? Was that your plan? Entering my fortified compound to kill me, but twisting the knife in my wound first? You motherfucker.”
Logan widens his eyes in surprise, taking in the Bible, just as Gabriel throws his fist out, crashing it into my jaw.
Is beating the shit out of me really the best he can do? I’m far beyond pain. It would take a lot more than that to break me.
Beside me, I’m aware of the glimmer of hope appearing in Logan’s eyes. For the first time, I find myself feeling a bit bad for him. He knows me well enough to realize that the Bible is a trap, and that Gabriel has just fallen into it. But he doesn’t know the new me at all. Otherwise, he’d understand that I do have a plan, but it’s solely to kill Gabriel. Not to get us out of this place alive.
Gabriel puts Lazarus’ Bible back into his breast pocket.Good. But the smirk curling the sides of his lips makes me uncomfortable.
Clearly, he has more on his mind than just beating me up. A fact he confirms a moment later by pressing on a remote control. An image flickers on the white wall behind him, and my stomachclenches as it grows sharper, showing a grave.
My pet’s grave.
Above a fresh mound of dirt is a wooden cross. He zooms in, allowing me to read the inscription.
Seraphina Connor, defiled by four men before being buried alive. May her soul experience eternal damnation.
Around the cross is hung fabric. It takes me a second to realize it’s a dress.Herdress.
I don’t have time to fully process the photo before he throws me another garment. Her underwear.
“You should see your face right now,” he chortles, walking toward me.
I clench my fists, seeing white. My darling girl. Her last moments on this Earth were full of suffering. I can’t bear to think of it.
I loathe him. I fucking loathe him. Suddenly, my plans for him feel nothing short of merciful. He’ll die an agonizing death, but it’s not nearly enough. I want to skin him alive. I want to hurt every single part of him until he’s a sobbing, quivering mess. And then I want to accompany him into the afterlife, leaving my own tortured consciousness far behind.
He chuckles, seeming to read my thoughts. “I’ll let you stew on that a bit. Boys, go ahead and beat them up. But don’t go too hard on them for the moment. I want that asshole to remain conscious long enough to process just how much his girl suffered. And how badly he failed to protect her.”
With that, he heads toward the door. He hesitates a moment, then turns around, leaning against the wall, smiling. A few seconds later, the door opens onto two other Angels, Aaron and Elias.
Gabriel gives them a nod as they sidle up to him, taking in our plight with big grins.
“We have a lot of work,” says Gabriel, “but let’s allow ourselvesthis one treat. Go ahead, boys.”
He nods to the guards, who close in on us.
I avoid meeting Logan’s eye, and instead stare numbly at the man who has stopped in front of me. It’s Garrido, and he’s grinning viciously.
A moment later, his fist barrels into me, and the coppery taste of blood fills my mouth.
Just as Gabriel promised, I don’t lose consciousness as Garrido continues to punch me, his fists falling like lead onto my face and my stomach. He kicks one of the legs of my chair and I fall to the ground, my eyes no longer able to keep away from Logan’s, who’s prostrated on the floor in the same position as me, still tied helplessly to his overturned chair.
“Heard you two weren’t getting along anymore,” smirks Gabriel, as Garrido lands kicking blows onto my stomach and back, Logan’s tormenter doing the same to him. Only he doesn’t have the cold horror of his girl’s fate on his mind to shield him from the physical pain, and he closes his eyes, low groans escaping his mouth. I can’t help but feel another inkling of remorse, to see him suffer like this on my account.
Behind us, Vincent shrieks loudly, but his pain is nothing compared to the quiet suffering in the eyes of the man who was once a brother to me.
I hear a crack, followed by a sharp pain.
Well, there goes the first rib.
What Gabriel doesn’t realize is how much my beating is a relief. Even this brand of torture, too mild to cause me to lose consciousness, helps me breathe easier. The physical pain allows me to escape my mental prison for a time.
Just until the trap I’ve carefully laid succeeds.
