Handing him one, I step back to watch Rhodes get to work smashing the man’s bones.
“Your words have fucked with my omega’s head for years,” he snarls, bringing the hammer down on the coach’s knees. “You’re a second rate educator, and a fucked up human. You’ll never be in the presence of another child for the rest of your miserable life.”
Coach Foster’s muffled screams are incredibly gratifying, and when I glance at my omega, I find his lips open as he pants excitedly.
“Are you enjoying the show, baby?” I ask him, chuckling as he bites his lip while he looks up at me. “Should I check your pussy to see how wet you are? Rhodes has a lot of aggression to work off. He’s so fucking good with a hammer.”
“This miserable piece of shit deserves it,” Rhodes snarls. “It’s all I’ve wanted to do since you told us about him, Koen. People like this terrify others simply because they can.”
“Coach Foster, you weren’t just giving Koen some friendly advice when you told him not to enter the league as a professional hockey player, were you?”
Rhodes’ fingers are bloody as he pulls out the coach’s gag, brow raised to show an answer is expected.
“No. I mean, yes!” he screams. “What do you want from me?”
“The truth would be excellent,” I reply.
He can’t see Koen from where he is on the ground. No one else is allowed to see our omega with his dick so hard it’s brushing his abs. His sweatshirt is pushed up so that I can enjoy how his precum is dripping onto his skin, and I want to fucking ruin him the way Rhodes and I are ruined for anyone else.
Koen’s alphas aren’t for the weak, and our omega is anything but that. I’ll gladly keep him tied up until he learns to trust the inner strength we see in him. One of the ways Rhodes is going to help him do that is to kill the person who put a fear into his heart that never should have been allowed to fester.
“I think he needs a little help, baby.”
Rhodes smirks as he pulls the weapons bag to him before brandishing a thumb screw. It may be a bit medieval, but it’ll do in a pinch and it’s bloodless. Placing Foster’s big toe inside of it, Rhodes begins to tighten it quicker than the coach can follow. The screams are very pretty, and I find myself moving closer to Koen.
“Your poor, swollen cock looks so uncomfortable,” I croon, smirking.
“It is,” he whimpers.
“That’s so sad,” I croon, dragging my finger up his piercings. I make sure to tug slightly on each one of them, enjoying the way Koen’s head drops back as he writhes. “It’s a shame there’s no one to make you come. If you have a problem, you lean on your alphas so we can handle it, is that understood?”
“You’re…not mine anymore,” he whispers, pain in his eyes.
It’s clear he’s going to be a hard sell. That’s okay. I’m determined to change things between us.
“I’ll always be yours,” I reply. “Scent matching isn’t everything. My soul recognizes yours, and I’m never going away. Do you hear that scream, Koen? It’s the scream of a man who is small, weak, and afraid. It’s everything you’re not. You’re a warrior, and Dan Foster tried to rob you of your spark.”
“Are you going to talk yet, Coach?” Rhodes asks. “I can do this all damn day. You have ten fingers and ten toes. After I break all of these, I’ll move on to internal organs. I bet your intestines will look real nice as a necklace.”
While I think this is a bluff because of his sensitive stomach, Rhodes’ face reflects a feral determination to get the information he wants. It takes four more broken toes before Dan screams out for mercy.
“Oh God! Please, I’ll talk, Jesus!”
“There’s no god here but us,” I remind him. “So let’s have it. Why would you destroy a teen’s peace the way you did?”
“I knew he’d grow up to be a force of nature,” Dan spits out. “Even though he was small, he didn’t have any fear. Jeffries would throw himself into the game as if he was immortal. I was only helping with the camp because I needed the good press. When I mentioned the kid to my assistant coach, he suggested I do whatever I could to make sure he didn’t pursue a professional career in hockey.”
“Holy fuck,” Koen rasps. "That's insane. You didn’t know if I’d keep playing just from that small amount of time you were training me.”
“I knew you would!” Coach screams as Rhodes grabs his toe and snaps it with his bare hand.
“That’s some poor sportsmanship,” Rhodes mutters. “Putting you down like the sad sack of shit that you are is for the best.”
“This was personal,” I say, pulling a wipe from the package and cleaning my fingers carefully. Just because there’s not any blood on them, doesn’t mean they aren’t contaminated by the filth on the ground. “He deserves to die, doesn’t he, Little Viking?”
“I…he…”
Koen’s breaths come out quickly as he glances between me and Coach Foster.
