Chapter 13

“He’s sick. He needs his rest,” I responded as I wrapped an arm around myself. The blade of the axe gently grazed my leg, no doubt leaving another scrape.

Something that can easily be explained.

“How about you get the fuck out of here?” the young man shouted, a little sterner this time.

I looked up at him, then let my eyes trail toward her. She was still crying, still hysterically shaking as she cowered against him.

“I can’t.”

“Then let me help you,” he sneered as he pushed away from her and started to make his way toward me.

I lowered my eyes again as I began to chew on my lip. I knew he’d be rough with me. I knew he’d try to throw me out like I had invaded their privacy, when all I was trying to do was help.

His hand gripped my arm tightly as he gave me a violent tug toward the door. I glanced at her over my shoulder.

She looked braver now.

Arms crossed over her chest, staring daggers at me.

I turned my attention back to the world outside, and as it loomed closer, I felt confident as my body began to tense. He pushed me out onto the porch, and I stumbled as I violently lost my footing and fell onto my knees.

I closed my eyes and saw his face.

His too-wide grin.

His hickory-brown eyes.

The way he always made me feel so goddamn wanted and loved.

I waited patiently until I heard the cracked door slam behind me, then crawled over toward where the axe had landed just out of my reach.

Without a second thought, I got to my feet and walked back toward the door.

They had their backs to me now.

They were getting dressed.

They were talking about me.

How I looked like a “homeless, crazy.”

How I was probably mentally ill.

How I had no business interrupting them.

I eased my way through the hole I made in the door, grimacing slightly as the broken wood tore at my skin. Tears streamed down my face as I listened to all of the horrible, heinous things they continued to say about me.

As if they knew me.

As if they could judge based on the desperate love I had for Elijah.

I stopped just short of the whore and her companion.

With a grunt, I raised the axe over my head and swung it with as much force as I used to break the door.

Right into the back of his fucking skull.

She screamed again as he turned slowly, staggering on his feet, raising a hand to the back of his head.

And when he turned, his eyes were almost vacant as they lowered to me.

I smiled at him as I used my forearm to wipe the sweat from my face.

One thing about me that Elijah always hoped to see, he had missed out on because I hid this side of myself from him.

I never wanted him to see me like this.

There would be a time for that, but for now, I would consider this as practice for Mr. Mike.

When the young man dropped to his knees, his face fell against my tummy, and I hurriedly pushed him off. I didn’t want another man to ever touch me again.

Only Elijah, and even that had been minimal at best.

He let out a strangled breath as his body fell onto its side, and I crouched down in front of him.

“Good night,” I whispered as I used the tips of my fingers to close his eyes. Pushing him onto his stomach, I wrapped my hands around the handle of the axe and grunted with frustration at how difficult it proved to extract.

But I managed, like I always had, and then glanced over at his whore who had collapsed into a heap of tears on the floor next to us.

“Do you have a knife?” I asked her softly, resting my chin on my shoulder.

She opened her mouth and let out another hysterical scream.

I lunged for her and wrapped my hands around her throat.

“If you scream again, you’ll end up like him, got it?” I warned her.

She didn’t listen.

Instead she began to frantically claw at my hands, trying to get some air back into her lungs, and scratching my face in the process.

“Whore,” I seethed as I raised her up by her neck then slammed her back into the floor. She let out a pained gurgle as I did it again.

Her eyes bulged.

Her movements were starting to become restricted.

I licked my lips as my eyes widened.

I pressed my knees into her chest as I slammed her head into the wooden floor again.

“Please…” she breathed as tears started to pour down her whore cheeks. Like a defiled waterfall full of nothing but sin and desperation.

I lifted her by the neck again, brought her up to meet my eyes as my breathing became heavy.

I was getting tired, so I knew I would have to finish this sooner rather than later.

“Look at me,” I whispered as I leaned forward and ran my tongue up her right cheek. Her tears were salty, bitter, and tasted so damn reminiscent of the ones I myself had shed when Elijah had been chased away.

She tried to shake her head, her eyes still tightly shut, and it made me angry.

I pressed my thumbs against her windpipe and began to squeeze as hard as I could.

It wouldn’t be the painful death of getting her head smashed in like her companion, but it would give her time to think about everything she’d never have again.

My teeth began to grind as I grunted and pressed down even harder. She stopped clawing at my face, instead, attempting to pry my hands from around her throat.

I pushed her down onto her back and moved my feet to take the place of my knees on her body.

With one final rumble of exertion escaping me, I used everything I had left as I pushed down.

A moment later, I heard the snap.

Finally.

I climbed off the whore and laid on my back next to both of them, ran my hands through my hair, and let out a quiet laugh.

All that was left for me to do was to take proof back to Elijah that his demons had been slain... for now.