Humming, I mumble inaudibly, “If by fucking to death, you mean his own, sans fucking, then yeah.”
“Now isn’t the time for his bullshit,” Mikah spits. “We need to switch gears. I think Talia’s here.”
Of course I’m here. Who else will make you regret the day you were born?
It takes every ounce of restraint I possess not to jump from this tree and flip them off before turning this into a battle of wills. Instead, I listen with rapt attention.
“It doesn’t really matter now, Mikah,” Jackson declares. “We need to get rid of this livestock first, and then we can hunt her down. We already know she’s not leaving herealive.”
Mikah’s head whips left so quickly, I think it may just snap. And we can’t have that—it’s mine to break.
Grunting, Mikah nods, “Fine. But if he’s not back by the time we do, I’ll kill, stuff, and mount him to my goddamn wall.”
Mikah’s anger is palpable, emanating off him like waves during high tide, before he turns and runs off into the night.
“We really need to figure out a way to rein him in,” Jackson hisses.
My brow arches. The girlies are fighting.
“That’s a future us problem, Jackson,” Fredrick argues. “Tonight—tonight, we revel in the blood of our victims while we dance with their carcasses.”
I don’t think this one’s wrapped too tight.
“That’s weird. Even for you, Rick,” he exclaims as he runs in the opposite direction from Mikah.
Shrugging, Fredrick shouts, “I know you’re listening, Talia. I can smell the sweat that is uniquely yours.”
I don’t respond. There’ll be a time in the very near future when we’ll have our own special conversation.
His lips thin.
I know this dumb fuck didn’t think I was just going to jump down and make it easy for him.
“Fine,” Fredrick shouts. “I’ll have your pussy split in two just like I did your?—”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead opting to plaster on a smarmy smile before his Freddy Krueger mask is firmly in place. Then, like the two before him, Fredrick disappears into the night.
My skin feels too tight. The memory of my sister’s body. The horror of what unchecked power can do churns my stomach—rotting like whole milk sitting in the peak desert sun.
Fueled with rage, I hop down from my perch and verify the direction Fredrick disappeared in. Then, I secure Guilie to my back, ignoring the stench of Griff.
It’s time to squash a roach.
Brax
Asmile curls on my face as I watch Talia run in the direction of the most twisted of the fucks I’ve ever encountered.
Fredrick Anthony Rogers had to be dropped on his head on numerous occasions as a child. The things he’s into?—
My grin melts into disgust as I have no words.
Every victim of his, guilty or innocent, meets a demise that I wouldn’t use on my fiercest enemy.
Images of my sister’s body, mutilated beyond identification after Mikah hunted her down so savagely.
Acid roils in my gut as I recount all the words in the reports.
Dead body?—
