bated /bTo My Obsessive Stepbrother

    bChapter /b391

    KESTER.

    Fuck. Watching Non do the devil’s work was like catching God on an off–day. It was

    the

    kind of thing that made a grown man moan.

    I leaned back against the table, where our equipment was lined up, one leg crossed over the other, like I was watching fine art unfold. And in ba /bwayb, /bbI /bbwas/b.

    Non had insisted on handling the bystander, since I had a more specific punishment for the one lying on the second ughter table the skilled videographer – who had already lost his right arm and left leg, almost like I imagined when I paused that filthy video and stared at his smug little face. I’d envisioned his limbs gone. His camera arm, especially.

    And now?

    He was a fucking masterpiece.

    He was better off this way.

    Non should have taken up a career in the medical field.

    “Goddamn, I muttered, a smile spreading across my face. “Non, are you sure you’re not a surgeonb? /bBecause bthis /bshit is precise.”

    Did you see how perfectly he sliced off the prick’s ear? It was almost sensual.

    “Heard you had a hard–on while you watched our Luna fight to keep her dignity…” Non whispered into the man’s remaining ear, “Let’s fix that.”

    His gloved hand hovered over the bastard’s groin, and I swear… bI /bswear… I felt the tension snap through the room.

    Oh. No. Don’t tell me he was going to cut off… Oh! Fuck! Non just sliced off the bastard’s cock with all the ir of a man removing rot.

    The bastard couldn’t even scream. He just made this wet, retching sound like his soul had gagged on itself.

    He was ready to give up the ghost in the next five minutes. And believe me when I say Non didn’t give him the mercy kill. He left the bastard to die very slowly.

    Was I happy with Non? Fuck, no. Happiness was an understatement.

    I was fucking proud of him!

    I returned my attention to the prick lying on my ughter table. His blood was everywhere, spraying, pulsing, and sickeningly warm.

    Larry didn’t hesitate. He swung right into action as he shoved the table aside, grabbed the red–sealed bag under the sink, and started unrolling the emergency trauma kit.

    bsure /bbithis /i/b

    “He’s got maybe two minutes before he crashes. Get me the mp. And the ketamine.”

    Oh. Had I mentioned that I also had a surgeon, two nurses, and an ex–military doctor, Larry, here with me?

    These bwere /bpeople who literally owe me their lives and loyalty, and they were more than happy to be here.

    Tourniquets, hemostatic dressings, IV fluids, oxygen, painkillers, antibiotics, everything that should’ve been in a hospital, that was needed bto /b… skilled videographer made it out of here alive, bwe/bb//bhad in a fucking basementb. /b

    Wanted to make sure he stayed alive. I needed him to wake up in that pain, stare at those missing limbs, and realize his bnew /breality. bI /bbneeded /bbhim /bbto /bunderstand–deeply–what happens when you touch what’s mineb. /b

    Let him wake up and think about the way his blood hrad sprayed across this floor like fucking confetti at a funeral.

    b‘/bbIt’s /bbtime /bfor our star charactersb./b” I took a sip of water and checked my watch. We’d spent less than forty minutes bwith /bbthose /bbtwo/b.

    Chapter b391 /b

    Impressive.

    bI /bwalked closer to Kex, whose eyes were red and swollen like he was standing before the ruler of hell. And guess who he was actually standing neimerz

    before?

    Yeah. You guessed right.

    He was sitting before me. The god of fury and judgment.

    The room suddenly grew colder. But I swear I didn’t do that on purpose. Some part

    of

    the room just seemed to know it was time.

    He was strapped to the reinforced steel chair Larry had bolted to the floor himself. His ankles were mped, wrists chained, and his jaw locked in a brace so tight it made his teeth chatter when he tried to speak.

    Perfect. I didn’t want to hear him say shit anyway.

    His head lolled forward, soaked in sweat and snot. The burn marks on his torso hadn’t even started to fester yet. My men had been keeping bthe pain /blocalized but intentional. He wasn’t allowed to go into shock, nor was he allowed to pass bout/b… Just a slow descent into the kind of hell you don’t bwake /bbup /bfrom.

    “Kex,” I said calmly, pulling up a stool like we were about to bhave /ba little fireside chat.

    He flinched.

    “Do you remember what she said to you?” I tilted my head. “Kamsine. When you pped her. When byou /bher legs.

    bChapter /bbComments /b

    Jessica Ference

    that torture is disturbing but also very satisfying. I love it!

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