Page 230 of Boys Who Hunt
My vision is blurry, and I’ve lost track of time.
All I know is that this ends with me.
Silas
The moment Ivanspots us as we approach his usual spot where he sells his drugs, he tries to run back to his car, but I swiftly chuck one of my knives at him. It lodges into his back, and he cries out in pain as he tumbles over his own feet and falls to the ground.
He attempts to crawl away, but I grasp him by the shirt. “You think you can get away with what you did?” I growl as we haul him off the ground and shove him against the wall.
“Not so tough now, are you?” Heath growls.
“Heath, we’re buddies, aren’t we?” Ivan says, trying to butter him up. “I sell you my best stuff.”
“You’re just in it for the money, and I’m not your buddy, you fucking rat,” Heath growls.
Heath smashes his face into the wall.
“Fine, I blackmailed her. So what?” the guy growls. “I helped her escape, and in turn, she helped me. Big deal.”
“Bullshit! You didn’t fucking help her, you used her!” Heath growls.
“Stefano has her now. It’s no use anyway trying to hurt me. It won’t get her back,” he says.
I lean in and growl, “I will rip each and every one of your fucking fingers out of your fucking hands and shove them up your own fucking ass if you don’t tell me where she is right now.”
“You think you can save her?” Ivan laughs.
Heath grabs his hand and pushes it to his back, side-eyeing me, so I tug at the guy’s index finger and cut it off cleanly.
He cries out in agony, immediately pissing his pants when I hold the finger up in front of his face.
“I gave you an opportunity to tell me right off the bat, but you chose the hard way instead,” I say. “I’m gonna enjoy listening to you cry for death instead of ten of these going up your ass in one go without lube.”
Heath rips down his pants.
“No, no, no, please! I’ll tell you,” he begs, shivering from sheer terror.
“Speak up,” I say, contorting his wrist the wrong way so he’s in misery.
“She’s at Stefano’s house …” he whimpers. “Please, don’t do this, let me go. I swear, I won’t blackmail her anymore. Or anyone else. I’ll stop. I swear.”
My nostrils flare. “Give me the address.”
“It’s in my phone,” he says, sweating profusely as he eyes his own back pocket. “In there.”
Heath plucks his phone from his pants. “How do we unlock this fucker?”
I grab his thumb and cut it off. His yelps are like music to my ears.
I throw the thumb to Heath. “Try this.”
“Why’d you have to cut it off?!” Ivan cries out. “I would’ve opened it!”
“Because you need to learn a lesson or two about what it means to steal my girl from me,” I reply, grinning against his ear. “We have a special trophy case to display our enemies’ limbs.”
His pupils dilate. “What?”
I cut off his pinky for good measure, and the wail that follows is so goddamn satisfying.