“I’m going to need matches too,” I say, forcing myself to breathe.
For now, my father is broken, but still alive. That won’t be true for much longer.
“I have some,” Hollis murmurs, pressing matches into my palm. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, I need some guys who can piss on command,” I sigh.
Hollis chuckles, and we both look around the courtyard. Nico and Pablo step forward, as do a few others.
“Then I’m all set,” I say, taking what appears to be a bottle of tequila from Silas.
“I grabbed the first thing I saw from the bar,” he says apologetically as I twist off the cap and allow it to fall on the ground.
“This is fine,” I reassure him, taking a sip to fortify myself. It’s at least top shelf liquor. “Papa…”
My bare feet pad over to him, and I begin to dump the bottle all over his body. Nico tosses my father’s clothing around him, so the material will help him burn. Papa is done flailing around, his face and shoulders streaked with shit as he glares at me.
“Oh, the things I’m sure you’d love to say to me,” I chuckle, dumping tequila over his face and hair. “The adults are in charge now, and your wave of terror is over, Papa. No more telling me who to kill, or insisting I’m your prisoner.”
There’s a bit of liquor left when I pass it to the first person near me, and I hand it off unseeingly before I pull out a match.
“You once threatened to light me on fire, so I’m doing you the same favor. Except…I don’t bluff.”
Striking the match, I drop it on the pants conveniently over his leg. And then I continue to light and drop matches until he’s on fire.
“Piss at will,” I mutter, stepping back as the men surround him. I am sending my father to the afterlife a fucked up, sticky mess.
They say you wouldn’t piss on your enemy if he were on fire, but I’m here to tell you it doesn’t matter if the fire is stoked high enough. The streams of urine cover my father’s body, yet the fire rages on.
A rush of lightheadedness hits me, and Ciro wraps his arm around my waist.
“I think I’m out of time,” I breathe, feeling my knees begin to weaken.
“Nah, it’s perfect timing,” Ciro murmurs, lifting me into his arms. “Boss! Let’s go.”
Nico and Pablo are at my side in a flash, their dicks tucked back in their pants. I hope they did that little wiggle afterward. I am definitely going to pass out.
“You’re doing really great, Rosa. We’re going home,” Nico says, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“We have all of this covered,” Easton says, tossing body bags at people. “Silas grab a few people to mingle and chat. The performers should be just about done.”
“I’ll go with you,” Hollis says. “Shit, do I have blood anywhere?”
“How you managed not to ruin your dress is beyond me,” Silas chuckles. “Anyone else up to snuff?”
The conversation fades as my pack strides away and enters the house. Dario is careful to close the door behind him to muffle the noise, and he also closes any doors near the courtyard before we’re moving toward an exit. Nico and Verona help brace Pablo as we walk, and then everything goes dark as my body gives up the ghost for rest.
It was a busy day, and it’s about to get worse.
Chapter Thirty-Two
NICO
Our new homeechoes around us as we walk through the entryway. There’s still very little furniture, but I’m not worried about that. We’ll fill our home with things we all want later. We have the essentials for now, and my brothers and I decorated the nests before we went to the party.
“Rosa,” I murmur, glancing at the secret doorway as I stop in the hallway. There’s room for improvement, but it’s as ready as we could make it. My brothers and I stuffed our dirty clothes underneath the sheets of both nests, but now I’m left with the decision of whether or not she’ll want Pablo with her or not now that they’re both officially in heat.
A nest is a sacred place. I don’t want to assume what she does or doesn’t want.
