Page 99 of Anchored to the Storm

I turned my back to him and ripped off the sweatshirt and my holster. “Get on with it.”

Styx eyed my gun and grumbled, “That could’ve come in handy if someone remembered to use it instead of becoming a flying hero.”

The balls on this guy? “I’m sorry. I’m still new to the ‘pull a gun if a friend is going to die’ club.”

He had the nerve to chuckle. “Do you even hear yourself, making no sense?”

I was fuming now. “I’ve been a little distracted with a mermaid girlfriend.”

“All done!” He pressed napkins to my back. “You can stop bitching now, Silly Rabbit.”

Done? But I didn’t even feel… I shook my head. “When will I learn your tricks?”

“Hopefully never, because they sure come in handy.” He handed me my cut, a bit too pleased with himself.

“I don’t want to get blood on it.”

His grin shifted to a cynical chortle. “Then you better become an accountant.” Nonchalantly, he glanced behind him. “I guess I’ll handle the revenge part. Stabbing a child rapist is some righteous shit, if you ask me.”

He had a point. “Blade.”

Styx growled, “There he is,” laying the knife into my eager palm.

Thankful for the blacked-out windows, I crawled to the back seat, waiting for the dead man walking to be brought to me. I couldn’t kill him. That was Sebastian’s right, but I could at least have a little fun first.

I had ducked down while the pastor was rolled into the back of the SUV; nonetheless, when the door shut, like a stalker, I peeked over the backseat. I waited for the hostage to notice me.

Once he did, I felt my sinister smile form. I felt my fangs slide out in a silent warning of what was to come.

As he pissed himself on top of the tarp he was on, I quietly told him, “Imagine what it’s like to be completely out of control of what is done to you. What it’s like to be overpowered, not strong enough to stop someone—or something—from forcing you to live through it all. The pain. The confusion and betrayal. The violation of your body. Over and over and over. That is when you’ll have a clue of all the suffering you’ve caused. And a teeny taste of all I’m going to put you through.” I licked my fangs. “Before you die.”

In the driver’s seat, Styx chuckled. “On second thought, why don’t you get up here to the front seat?”

Staring into the pastor’s terrified eyes, I lifted my lips so he could witness me retracting my fangs. Then I sang out, “See ya soon, dead fucker.”

I glanced out the back window to see my friends, not sure when I would see them again, and was gifted with words from Seb. He chose to protect over murder. The young man I saw in the hospital, at Blue’s side, had returned.

My eyes closed, and I inhaled. So proud of you, my dear friend.

Reopening my eyes, I saw a blue glow against the pastor’s horrified face. “Don’t worry. The same doesn’t go for me.”

Driving to Noma’s, I couldn’t believe my ears when being informed of what the men heard and saw. Blue has a sister. And the man in the very back had been abusing her all her life?

“Easy, son.” Styx sounded concerned. He searched the middle console between us, then handed me my brass knuckles.

In a rush, I slipped them on, opening and closing my hands while taking deep breaths.

Styx nodded. “Well done. Thank you.”

In the middle row of seats, Avenger said, “I’ve never heard you sound scared before, Styx, not like that.”

Styx’s voice was steady but cautious. “Still much to learn.”

Peacemaker, sitting behind me, chuckled. “Hate to be the asshole in the back.”

Letti and Cocky, in the last row of seating, laughed. “He may have shit himself back here. It stinks.”

We all laughed with not one ounce of sympathy.