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Twisted: Chapter 42

Julian

The plastic tarp crinkles beneath my feet as I walk back and forth, staring at the two men who thought they could walk into my house, hurt my wife, and get away with it.

Isabella slithers around my feet, hissing.

Darryn is unconscious, the gun wound to his side slowly stealing his life away. Unfortunately for him, it will only make the pressure of Isabella’s coiling body worse. He should have known that I wouldn’t allow him to walk away after he used Yasmin as bait. As soon as I saw she was out the door and being dragged to safety, I moved, spinning my staff around and busting his kneecaps. When Darryn fell to the floor, his hold on his gun slipped, and he injured himself. Makes my job easier, I suppose, but I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t enjoy this more if he was conscious for what I’m about to do.

Ian, on the other hand, is bloodied and broken but alert, eyes staring out of his mangled face as he watches me slowly pace in front of them. They’re both stripped naked, their backs facing each other, tied together with rope as they sit on the floor.

Isabella doesn’t enjoy the taste of cotton.

“This is truly an unfortunate situation,” I muse, my footsteps stopping as I stare at them. “I don’t care that you tried to take the lamp or that you crossed me. Predictable, really. Textbook, almost. The thorn in my side and the greedy assistant banding together to try and outsmart the man they love to hate.” I smile. “Unfortunately for you, that man has a vengeful spirit and a pet he doesn’t like to let go hungry.”

Bending down, I stroke Isabella’s head. Ian jerks as much as he can with no working limbs, muffled sounds coming from his bruised and bleeding mouth.

“Luckily, I have a soft spot for the people I’ve cared for, even when they choose to hurt me.” I purse my lips. “It’s a complex, really. One that I’m just now working on overcoming.”

I move closer until I’m directly in front of Ian, his eyes locked on mine, wide and filled with terror.

He gurgles, blood trickling from the side of his mouth.

“But then you touched my wife.” Standing up straight, I walk over to where the box of mice sits, a bone saw directly next to it. I click my tongue, looking back and forth at the two. “Decisions, decisions.” I pick the bone saw, gripping the large handle and making my way back to Ian. “What was it you said?”

Taking the tip of the saw, I press it into his inner thigh, dragging it slowly across the meat of his flesh, enjoying the way his broken body jerks from the pain.

“You said you would fuck her dead body, is that right?”

He tries to speak, but his lips are so disfigured from the way I beat him with my staff that it’s hard for him to talk.

“Don’t worry.” I move the saw over to rest on top of his puny dick. “This will only hurt for a little.”

A sharp slice through the rubbery flesh and a tortured scream later, his useless member falls to the ground, severed from his body, blood gushing from the wound. I move quickly, realizing that he’ll likely pass out soon from the pain or maybe the loss of blood, and grab his severed cock, prying his mangled lips open, shoving it in his mouth as his eyes roll back in his head, his body jerking wildly before he stops moving all together.

Standing up straight, my hands sticky and red, I crack my neck, looking at the two pieces of shit who thought they could threaten Yasmin and live to tell the tale.

I walk back over and pick up the box of mice, dropping the bone saw, now stained with red, before making my way to the two unconscious bodies. I’m not sure if they’re alive or dead, but at this point, it doesn’t matter.

I dump the rodents in their laps and spin toward Isabella, lifting a brow. “Hungry?”

Isabella slithers up to them, curling around their limp frames.

I don’t leave until I’m sure they’re both dead.

And then after a long shower where I scrub away my sins, I head to the guest room where I have my on- call doctor tending to Riya.

She’ll be fine, thankfully. Just a long recovery and a lot of rest.

I’m walking past the foyer and to the stairs when the front door slams open, causing me to spin around, my stomach tightening.

Yasmin stands in the doorway, her hair a tangled mess and her clothes dirty and torn. But she’s here. And she looks shocked to see me.

She stumbles into the foyer, bruised and bloody, the silver case with the lamp tucked under her arm.

“Yasmin,” I breathe, frozen in place.

Her mouth drops open, a sharp cry ringing from her lips as she drops the case and rushes into my arms, throwing herself at me.

I close my eyes and catch her, pulling her flush against me as her limbs wrap around my body and she sobs into my neck. “I thought…I thought you were dead,” she says.

“Shh,” I soothe, running my hands up and down her spine, my chest feeling like it might explode from having her in my arms again. “You think I’d allow death to come for me when I knew you were out there with another man?”

She presses kisses all over my neck and my face and then pulls back, staring at me. “How could you send me away? How could you do that to me? You said you’d never let me leave.”

I sigh, tensing my arms around her. “I would do anything for you, including setting you free. Don’t you get that yet?”

She sniffles, shaking her head, her fingers tickling the nape of my neck. “I don’t want to live if it isn’t with you.”

Slowly, she slides down my body, and I push her back, holding her by the arms as I take her in, my eyes desperately covering every inch of her to make sure that she’s whole. That even though she’s been through an incredible ordeal, she isn’t too broken for me to piece back together.

“How did you get here?” I ask, rubbing my palms up and down her body to check for broken bones. “Where’s the boy?”

“I took a cab. And Aidan’s dead.”

Her voice is monotone, and I jerk back, my brows shooting to my hairline. “Come again?”

She seems apathetic about the entire thing, which is not like her, but I let it go, realizing that she lost her father, thought she lost her best friend and her husband, and now has lost the first boy she ever loved. She’s allowed to disassociate for a while if she needs. I’ll be here in the end to bring her back.

“I’m so sick of people telling me what to do.” She shrugs. “And he wouldn’t let me leave, was going to hurt me and take the lamp, so I did what I had to do.” She pauses, staring up at me from beneath her lashes. “I’ll need your help cleaning it up.”

I brush her hair away from her face and nod. “I’ll take care of it.”

She swallows, looking down at the floor. I reach out, tipping her chin up so her glossy eyes meet mine. “Would you like to see your friend?”

She gasps. “Riya’s alive?”

“She is.”

Now tears do escape her eyes, and she covers her mouth with her hands, nodding. “You saved her. You sent me away so you could save her.”

It’s true, even though it almost killed me to watch the boy take her away, kicking and screaming. I couldn’t focus on saving her best friend and subduing Darryn at the same time as long as she was there too. It had to be one or the other.

And I couldn’t let her lose another person who she loves, even though it meant setting her free and having to trust that she’d come back home.

I cup her cheek, bringing her into me. She smiles, rising up on her tiptoes and brushing her mouth across mine.

My chest warms, heart beating harshly against my ribs.

I’ve spent my entire life feeling less than. I spent countless years and killed numerous people, all to work toward gaining the upper hand and becoming something more.

Who knew this whole time, all I ever needed was her.

My wife.

And she makes me feel like the most powerful man in the world.


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