It has been over a week since the incident, and her bruises have all yellowed and are starting to fade. Right now, she’s pale and her eyes are wide with fear, her breath hitches when she sees the man bound to the chair. She flinches like she’s been struck, one hand flying up to clutch Aly’s sleeve.
Aly’s reaction is immediate and visceral.
“What the hell is this?” she demands. Her voice is sharp and filled with disbelief. She steps forward, positioning herselfbetween Devin and the room. “You had them come get us for—Kazimir, what are you doing?”
I don’t answer her…not yet.
I crouch in front of the man instead, ripping the tape from his mouth in one swift motion. He doesn’t cry out even though pieces of his flesh rip off with the tape. His lips tremble and saliva strings as he gasps.
“You remember her,” I say calmly, gesturing back toward Devin without looking. “Tell us what you did.”
He shakes his head and tears spill out. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please.”
I sigh softly, disappointed.
The first correction is surgical. I take my time with it, breaking his nose with the heel of my palm, snapping cartilage with a wet, decisive crack that echoes in the room. He screams, high and broken, blood pouring down over his mouth and chin.
“That,” I say evenly, “was for lying.”
I stand and roll my shoulders once, loosening them. I reach for the tools laid out neatly on the steel table nearby. This is not a frenzy. This is instruction.
I break fingers next, one by one, not in order. I want to keep him guessing and keep his body from bracing. I wrench his thumb so hard the knuckle bone shows through his skin, Alyona makes a retching sound and tries to pull Devin from the room.
But Devin doesn’t move. She stands there frozen, watching.
I talk as I work. My voice is steady while I explain boundaries, consequences, and the concept of ownership in a world where men like him mistake access for entitlement. He sobs, begs, promises money, influence, and favors.
I use my baton until it snaps, then my boots, then my hands, leaving bruises that will bloom dark and spectacular. I am aware of the blood slicking my knuckles, soaking into my shirt, spattering my forearms. I am aware of Aly’s breathing behindme, fast and furious, of Devin’s soft, broken sounds as she tries not to make any at all.
When I finally stop, the man slumps forward, unconscious, but breathing. His face is ruined, and his body is broken.
I turn.
Devin is crying silently, shoulders caving inward, and her face is buried against Aly’s neck. Aly’s eyes are blazing, and with trembling hands she rubs Devin’s back. I can tell her entire body is radiating fury.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she snaps, voice cracking with it. “You didn’t have to make her watch.”
“I didn’t make her. She chose to stay.” Turning back to the man, I lean down to peer closely at his face, which looks like tenderized mutton. “He will never do that to another woman again.”
“That wasn’t for her,” Aly shoots back. “That was for you.”
She shepherds Devin toward the door, casting one last look over her shoulder at me, at the blood, at the room. There is nothing in her expression but anger and something sharper beneath it, something that twists unpleasantly in my chest.
She knows who I am. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to her, and I don’t feel guilty. I won’t.
The door closes behind them.
The basement is suddenly very quiet.
I look down at my hands and the blood drying dark against my skin. I did what needed to be done. I know that. I have always known that.
But as I stand there alone, surrounded by the aftermath of my own ruthlessness, I find myself wondering if I have shown too much to Alyona. Could she ever really want a man like this?
Later, I brace my hands against the porcelain sink and scrub methodically, watching diluted blood spiral down the drain. My knuckles are already swelling beneath the ink, skin split in two places, the familiar sting grounding me more than any prayer ever could. I breathe through my nose, slow and controlled, cataloging the damage with detached precision.
This is nothing.
I reach for the towel to dry my hands when I hear voices coming from the adjoining side room. The door isn’t fully closed. I hadn’t realized anyone was there.
