But he can’t help himself. “I swear I didn’t touch him. Not once. He came at me. I had to defend?—”
I drop the crowbar and grab his arm and twist. He shrieks.
“You broke his arm in self-defense?”
“Yes! He attacked me. I just pushed him away?—”
I twist harder. Something grinds. “Liar.”
“I’m not lying! He makes people feel sorry for him. He manipulates?—”
I let go of his arm and swing the crowbar into his shoulder. Blood and snot run down his face. His cheekbone collapses with a crunch of the bar. Blood sprays across the concrete.
Mendez is shaking, staring at the floor.
David’s barely conscious but still trying to talk through broken teeth. “I … I love him?—”
Love.
I hit him again. And again. And again. Each time he tries to say Kelly’s name. Each time he tries to justify what he did.
When I stop, he can’t form words anymore.
I lean in. “You called me a butcher for what I do for my family.” I smile. “Now you get to find out you were right.”
That’s all I say before I kick him so hard in the chest his chair tilts back and crashes to the floor. His head cracks against the concrete. Then I position myself over his arm, place my boot exactly where Kelly’s break was, and bring my full weight down. The crack is louder than I expected. His scream fills the basement, raw and desperate.
All I can think about is Kelly flinching every time someone moves too fast. The way he automatically makes himself smaller. How he thinks he’s weak.
This piece of shit trained those responses into him, and now he gets to experience what Kelly felt.
I move methodically through everything he told me David did to him, taking my time, making sure he understands exactly why this is happening. When there’s nothing left but gurgling and twitching, I finish it. The blade cuts through flesh and bone, and his head rolls free.
I drag my sleeve across my face, smearing blood and worse across my cheek. Useless. I’m painted in crimson. My clothes are soaked through, heavy with gore, sticking to my skin.
The floor’s a lake of red, David’s pieces spread so wide you can’t tell what used to be what. Mendez’s face is gray as concrete, pupils blown wide with shock. He hasn’t moved since I pulled out David’s intestines.
“Father is going to murder us when he finds out about this. You know that, right?” Mikhail comments.
“So what?I don’t give a fuck what kind of deal he has with the police. This bastard almost destroyed Kelly.”
I turn to face him. “How would you feel if someone hurt Daniil like this?”
I know this will get through to him. Mikhail’s protective as hell when it comes to him.
“I would kill them.”
“Exactly.”
He sighs and rubs his eyebrow. “This is going to be a mess to clean up.”
This is it. The moment everything changes. Roman will demand explanations for why I tortured two cops without orders, and I’ll have to tell him about Kelly. About loving a man. About choosing him over family expectations.
But watching him recover, seeing how this piece of shit damaged him? I’d rather burn it all down than let anyone hurt him again. Kelly will know he’s worth fighting for. Worth claiming. Worth protecting at any cost.
I walk across the room and grab David’s severed head by what’s left of his matted hair, then hurl it at Mendez’s feet. Blood splatters across his shoes as it hits the concrete with a wet, hollow thud. “Your turn. Talk.”
He lets out a shaky breath. “What do you want to know?”
