Page 71 of To All the Guys I Killed Before

I’m not going to find any answers here. I’m done.

“What are you doing?” His voice shakes, and there’s lust mixed with the loathing.

I answer it with a look of disgust. “Ew. Never again.” Instead of reaching for his zipper, I yank off his shoes, then his socks. “I also saw your comments, you know.”

“C-comments?” he asks through a ragged breath.

“Keep up, counselor.” I slap the top of his foot with the flat of my blade. “On the forum. You replied to every sad little man who commented on your videos. You used laugh emojis when they insulted me. You asked them to vote on what position to put me in next. And your grammar, Gregory? Appalling.”

“No,” he moans when I drag the knife over the top of his toes.

“Yes,” I reply. “Your choice. Big or little?”

He rallies enough to shriek, “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“How exactly?” I peer at him in genuine curiosity. “Forget about the zip ties. You won’t be able to chase me down after this. Now, big toe or little toe?”

“You crazy fucking bitch!” He screams it so loudly that something in his throat shreds. I just laugh and tap his left foot.

“Little toe it is.”

Something in him breaks when I press my knife against the side of his foot.

“I’m sorry!” he cries, the veins in his neck bulging. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Not yet, you’re not.” I look him in the eyes as I snip that little piggy right off and hold it up so he can see. “Little toe for a little man.”

He traps the scream in his chest this time, raw hatred twisting his bloody face as he thrashes. “S-s-someone will f-find out. About you.”

That costs him another toe. I chop it and toss it over my shoulder.

“T-Timms⁠—”

“Who, your buddy in victimizing women?” I walk my fingers from his three-toed left foot to his still-intact right one. “Sorry, but he’s next.”

“You fuc… fucking…” He coughs weakly. “Cunt.”

I roll my eyes just as Fi says in my ear, “He needs a new insult. That one’s getting old.”

Fuck. I completely forgot she was listening. But it’s okay; she’s been with me for my speed-run through every stage of grief after I learned about what Greg had done: denial, bargaining, depression. It’s fitting she’s here for anger and amputations, and although I’m sure I’ll eventually hit acceptance, right now I’ve got something even better.

Vengeance.

“Are you still enjoying the Jackson 5 concert?” I ask her.

“Unfortunately.”

“Can you move closer to the wall? I feel like the grand finale calls for some music.”

She sighs. “You and Dr. Bore were made for each other.” But I hear the pad of her feet and then muffled music. I pluck out my earbuds and tap the speaker button on my phone, leaving a bloody smear on the screen as it fills the room with a familiar song.

“Frankly, I’m both mad and disappointed, Gregory,” I say, turning back to my ex. “I thought you cared about things like justice and right and wrong. Remember how upset you were when that drunk driver you were prosecuting died in a car crash?”

“Darren Damien.” He coughs again, blood-flecked drool leaking from the side of his mouth to pool on his chest. “I was gonna l-let him off with… l-light sentence. Didn’t deserve a hard time for killing some… some used-up female sucking cock for f-favors.”

The revelation leaves me speechless, but Felicity steps in to murmur, “Stay focused.”

I ignore her as what I thought I understood about my ex shifts yet again.