McGill glances at Kohen and then back to me, taking shallow breaths. “W-what?”
“Tell me how every relationship you’ve ever had has failed. Tell me how your kids won’t shed a tear for you. Look at me and say that you’re a pathetic, spineless old man.” He screams when I push the end of the bat into his wound. His screams hit the high notes at the exact same time as the music.
“He’s going to go into shock,” Kohen says from beside me.
My nostrils flare as I release pressure and let the bat fall back to my side.
“Blaze,” McGill whimpers. “Blaze, please. I-I had no choice.” His chest quakes with each breath he takes. “Jessica took everything!”
“Why?” I force the syllable out, feeling the moisture from my hands build within the gloves.
“I mean, we—we separated, and she took me to court and got thekids—”
“Why, McGill? Why are you living alone, in your own filth, surrounded by empty bottles? Why did she leave? Why did she get it all?”
He stutters, unable to string together a coherent sentence.
Kohen shows me a stack of papers, turning each and every sheet for me to read. “Gambling?” I say, looking at page after page of transactions, overdrafts, and payment claims from casinos, bookmakers, and banks. Then the final page: an advance of $400,000 from Whitlock Investments.“You wrecked my soul to pay off yourgambling debts?”
I’ve never felt so cheap in my fucking life. Adrenaline has my grip shaking around the bat. I want to hit him again. I want to do it over and over until he’s a mangled pile of bone.
Fuck him.
Fuck my grandfather.
Fuckallof them.
McGill raises his one good arm as the bottled-up rage comes bubbling out to fuel each swing of the bat. I do it over and over until his entire shirt turns a haunting shade of crimson, and even then, I keep hitting his shoulder, screaming my frustrations as I do. Cursing him. Cursing my grandfather. Cursing my parents. It all comes out. I don’t let up until his arm is barely attached to his shoulder and the rug beneath him is soaked in his blood.
“I was thinking about how I saw this all play out. Whether I’d break your bones one by one, or find some loose wiring so you know what it feels like to have your brains fucking fried. Whether I’d let Kohen finish you off or if I’d do it myself.” My voice wavers as I speak. “No onegets to take my revenge for me. I thought about torturing you, drawing it out for hours—days— just like you did tome. But if I thought my life was sad?” I scoff, clutching the bat in both hands. “Look at you. You’re pathetic. Tell me.” I tip my head to the side. “When you take your last breath tonight, will you die knowing what love feels like? Or will you die knowing that your own children don’t want you?”
Tears gather along his lashes. “Please.”
“You’re crying? How sad.” I step on him, pressing my weight to his side and watch him squirm beneath me. “You tortured me, McGill. You made me suffer for your own twisted pleasure because it’s the only time you get to feel powerful during your own pitiful existence. Now, my face will be the last one you ever see. My voice is the last you ever hear.”
I raise my shaking arms and he squeezes his eyes shut like a coward.
“One more thing.” Kohen stops me mid swing with a hand on my arm, then drops down onto his haunches in front of McGill. “Ididburn down her house, almost killed Elijah for touching her, then blew up the Science building because I wanted to impress her. And you see those nails in that bat? I put them there for her. You once asked what Blaze is to me. She’s my vice. My fire.” McGill’s lips part as Kohen rises to his feet.
“Don’t worry, McGill. I take your treatment planveryseriously, and I’ve already decided you need to be put down.”
This time, when I aim, the nails bury into McGill’s face. One pierces his eyeball as another caves into his skull, splattering blood up the walls and around the room. Thecrunchthat resonates through the air melts with the fading music.
I keep hitting and hitting and hitting. His head. Shoulder. Hands. Stomach. Legs. Chest. The rage rolls through me with the force of ahurricane as I scream, letting the weapon loose on every inch of him. Blood splatters all over my skin, and each shattering bone feels more sickening than the last.
Warm liquid falls from my cheek to my chest that’s aching from my haggard breaths, and drips down my bare stomach. I choke on a sob as I bury the bat into him one last time, bile rushing up my throat.
Power floods through my veins as I sway back and watch the bat slowly dislodge itself from his head and clunk onto the floor, McGill spurting blood from all of his orifices.
He’s dead.I did that. I killed him.
I fucking killed him.
He can’t hurt me anymore. He can’t run and tell my grandfather about all my crimes. He can’t hold me down or lock me in ice water.
For the next few weeks, I have no warden watching my cage. No one to coat my skin in black and blue for the sake of fuckinggambling debts. All that’s left is Boris and Dr. Van der Merwe. The former will have his time. The latter? He will suffer, but death will not be his ending.
For the first time in my life, I feel like I’ve finally won a battle.
