I’m an observer, I can’t feel his pain, but my balls scramble, seeking refuge in my abdomen. And it only gets worse...
***
Two hours later, Broadway’s blood-soaked shoes make a squelching noise as he abandons his post. With a jerk of his head, he summons Koby and the saw.
The rest of the show doesn’t last long. Koby removes Vincent’s hands, then legs while the man floats in and out of consciousness as he bleeds out.
His head falls last, the light leaving his eyes as Broadway slowly pushes the oxidized teeth of the old saw through the vertebrae in Vincent’s neck, severing his spinal cord.
The relief that rattles through him is so potent I can fucking taste it in the air. His eyes water, shoulders sag, and the silence that ensues rings louder than words.
He did it. He killed every man who raped his girl.
God help anyone who tries to hurt her in the future.
23
Bianca
“We should do this every weekend,” Hailey mumbles from the massage bed beside mine.
As soon as I arrived, Hailey called Violet and organized a last-minute in-house spa day. I expected Arthur would promptly head home, but no. He’s here, watching TV in the other room. The two guards outside will alert him if anything seems out of sorts, so he felt there was little sense in breathing down our necks.
“We really should. It feels divine,” Violet agrees.
So do I. I’ve never had a massage before, but if I could, I’d get one every day. My masseur digs his elbow into my lower back, rubbing in small circles that ease the tension from my muscles.
Hailey told me earlier that she asked for three women, but there were only two available.
“The guy is yours,”she whispered while the beds were being set up in her living room.“Carter would have an aneurysm ifanother man touched me, and Broadway would break the guy’s hands if he got within breathing distance of Violet.”
Their possessiveness doesn’t toe the line of unhealthy. It’s kicked the line into dust and pissed all over what’s left.
I should’ve been appalled.
I should’ve rolled my eyes.
I should’ve told them both how toxic their men are, but instead, jealousy clinched my throat.
No one’s ever been so possessive over me. No one ever will.
After the massage, we have a light snack in the sunroom, then continue the spa day with a set of facials. Manicure, pedicure, hair styling, makeup artists...
By the time we’re done it’s past eight in the evening.
The guys should’ve been back by now. Ryder said eight.
“Does this always take so long?” I ask, glancing at the clock for the tenth time in the last five minutes, my manicured red nails picking nonexistent fluff off my black dress.
“Sometimes,” Violet admits, clutching a cup of peppermint tea. “Why? Worried about Ryder?” She bounces her eyebrows, exchanging a knowing look with Hailey who beams over her champagne flute.
“You like him, don’t you?”
“No,” I lie, chugging half of my champagne in one go.
“Oh, please. I saw you looking at him last week. You’re into him. Admit it.”
“Why would I be into him? He’s impossible. Rude. Arrogant. Most of the time I want to clock him.”
