Page 138 of Hostile Saint

I yelled in his face, “So! Fucking! Sorry!” while I retrieved my blade.

My right eye twitched as I stared at it. “A great man taught me I had power with this. That I could have power over you.” The muscle in my cheek shook with my craze. “Let’s see if he was right.”

Damien’s blood flew everywhere as his hands, unable to work properly from me stabbing his wrists, tried to push my knife away as it sunk into his side.

The way it penetrated, so deep, told me organs had been hit, which made my eyes roll back into my head. So, I repeated his words I had heard so many times before, “You’re right, brother, this does feel soooo good.”

Damien was howling, but he didn’t sound like the formidable wolves I’d come to admire and love. He sounded like a squealing, dying hyena.

“Know this, Damien,” I pulled out the knife while whispering the next part, “you didn’t break her.” I sunk the blade into one of the only dry spots left on his cloak. “And, as you can see and feel,” I twisted the knife, “you didn’t break me, either.” I yanked out the soaked weapon. “Even when you thought you had killed me.” Damien’s eyes were wide with shock and alarm as I held the knife above him, only to maliciously lower it and carve HS on his chest. “You failed.”

What came next? I think he was screaming, but I no longer heard him. My mind had shut out every pitiful cry as I stabbed his groin and his testicles… over and over, making sure his dick would never be functional again, not that I had any intention of letting him live.

Just like he tormented my life, I tormented his last minutes. “As I steal your blood and watch it leak from your pathetic body, I’m giving my wife strength,” stab, “revenge,” stab, “honor,” stab, “and the power to outlive your burning soul.” Stab! Stab! “May every scream you forced from her haunt your eternity in Hell.”

Releasing all my fury on the last demon I needed to face, I must’ve blacked out…

As I came to, I found myself on my feet, covered in blood, stumbling backward, staring at the massacred body that now resembled a trough of ground beef.

My hands were empty. My blade in his eye socket.

I was gasping for air and for the balance these triumphant deaths had given me. That balance offered the foundation that my kinder self desperately needed in order to return to my body. I felt shocked over my actions, but no part of me had regret. I simply lacked the will to find regret. These criminals had to fall… permanently. Hostile Saint made that happen.

Charlie’s growl was my first inclination that this night wasn’t over.

“So, it was you who was truly the strongest.”

A man’s voice was the second.

I spun around to face him.

By the way he walked and confidently presented himself, I understood this man was higher up in SAIL. That’s why I didn’t ask who he was. He already seemed to know who I was, so I didn’t offer one more bit of intel for him to gather. My Captain had given an order, If anyone tries to pump you for info, without an officer monitoring the conversation, do not talk.

This man may have been a part of what I was, but I didn’t want him to be a part of what I had become. Saint was only for Lacey, wolves, and my Stallions.

Besides, I had Charlie to do all the talking that was needed.

Grrrrrr…

The man stopped approaching, gesturing to my dog as he pushed back his hood. “Your friend doesn’t seem to like me.”

I wanted to say, He’s a great judge of character, but kept Justice’s words closer and studied my robed enemy instead. There were no weapons in his hands, yet he stood there as if he had all the control of this situation. That was unnerving. I was missing something.

The grey-haired man asked, “Mind if we chat?”

I mind that you’re breathing, asshole.

“What is your friend’s name?”

Dickhead.

“I know you have the ability to speak, Tate Young.”

Say nothing.

Lifting his hands, the cloth on his arms swayed. “Okay. Okay. I’ll do the talking.”

Lucky me.