“For a dead man, you talk too much.” I cocked the gun and pointed it at his head. “Now let me see your fucking hand.”
He extended his hand, and I holstered the gun before I grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the crate. I pinned his hand to the worn wood and quickly assessed my target. I held the handle of the ax closest to the head and swiftly brought it down on his pinkie finger. He cried out in agony, and I quickly severed the thumb. I grabbed his other hand and slowly removed each finger one by one. I wanted him to feel the pain as the blade cut into his skin, crushed the bones, and dug into the muscle and tendons before swiping it away from his body.
His face was pale, and the screams had died down to a mild whimper. There was a lot of blood loss already. I was ready to be done with this fucker. Using the ax and two quick swings, I severed his fingerless hands from his body. He had passed out, but he wasn’t dead. Not yet, at least. I tossed the ax in the corner and pulled my gun out. I put a bullet in each of his shoulders and then each of his knees. Then I turned to drag him outside but stopped when I saw Jensen’s face. He looked at the man with hate-filled eyes.
“I thought you weren’t going to look this way,” I said. He tugged the sleeves of his flannel shirt over his arms and then guided his legs into his pants. What Jensen replied with told me that this kid was different. Way different than Alek.
“I wanted to see his face when he hurt. See how he liked it.” Though he was shaking, it had nothing to do with fear. He was angry. He looked me in the eyes, and I saw no fear. “If… if you had a gun, why didn’t you just use it?” he asked.
“That would have been easy. It would have shown mercy.” I crouched in front of Jensen and noticed he was holding his stomach. “And I have a feeling that he showed you no mercy. He didn’t care about the pain he was putting you through.”
“None of them cared!” Jensen yelled. He swallowed and then lowered his head. “They would all laugh when they hurt me.”
“He ain’t laughing now, is he?” I asked. The corners of Jensen’s mouth turned upward slightly, and he shook his head. “Your brothers told me there are wolves in the forest. Is that so?”
“You’ve talked to my brothers? Alek and Bowden?”
“I have. They’re in America with Aria, Aurora, and your mom.”
“They left? They left me?”
“My partner and I had to get them on a plane and safely on their way. There was little time. Once they were safe, then I came back for you.”
“You came back for me?”
“I wasn’t going to let you suffer. I grew up with a kid kind of like you. And I wished I could have always done more to help him. I wasn’t going to leave you.”
At the sound of the floorboard creaking, Jensen and I both turned our heads. A man stood in the doorway with a rifle pointed at me.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked.
“Easy,” I said as I held a hand up.
I pulled Jensen behind me and made sure I raised my coat slightly so Jensen would see my gun.
“Does Wade know you are here?” the man asked. I noticed he had a Russian accent like the other man’s.
I felt Jensen’s hand on the gun, and as he pulled it out of my waistband, a gun went off. The man in front of us stumbled forward and dropped his rifle before he fell to the ground. I quickly kicked the rifle to the side while I took hold of the gun Jensen was trying to put in my hand. I pointed the gun in the doorway when I heard footsteps. Taylor appeared with her gun drawn, and I had never been happier to see her. I lowered my gun and smiled.
“Yeah, Taylor!” I exclaimed. I turned to look at Jensen and said, “That’s my partner, Taylor.”
“If you had just waited like I suggested—”
“We’d just now be getting here. And Jensen couldn’t have waited another second.”
“We need to get moving,” she said.
“We’re ready. Just need to do one thing,” I said. I took hold of the handless man’s ankles and dragged him out the door and into the snow. Red streaks of blood followed us.
I looked at Jensen, who was struggling with the buttons on his shirt. He reminded me so much of Michael, and I had to remind myself not to reach for him and help him without asking first. I’d do that with Michael and he’d panic or get upset.
“Jensen.” I let go of the man’s body and stepped toward Jensen. He looked up at me through his long, scraggly bangs as he gripped the open ends of the shirt. “Want me to help you button that?”
He shook his head and lowered it more. I got it. Independence was everything to him right now.
“Stupid buttons won’t go in,” he mumbled. Jensen raised his arm and wiped his eyes on his sleeve and sniffled.
“Sweetie,” Taylor said, trying to get him to let her help him.
