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“I believe our friends stopped by. Ya see, when ya moved here, I had Cam put his name on your apartment for safety. Just in case somethin’ like this ever happened. Someone must’ve found out ‘bout it. They were lookin’ for somethin’.” Stafford’s tone is accusatory.
I look around. My shit is everywhere. Everything has been turned over or torn apart. Even my shitty couch has spongy yellow stuffing falling from it.
“I don’t…” I begin.
“Don’t give me excuses, Josephine. I should’ve known ye'd keep things from me. Can’t say I blame ya. Killian and Kate really did a number,” he shakes his head. “Regardless, Fiona made it a point to tell me you’ve been absent. Then when she was visitin’ your sister, Vivian asked if Fiona’d seen ya. Imagine that.”
I know what he is trying to get at. I left him under the impression that I was going to stay there, and I’m caught in a lie. He’s such a jackass keeping tabs on me. I try to remind myself it’s for Vivian’s safety, but it feels controlling. Reminiscent of Killian.
“It’s none of Fiona’s fucking business. Nosy bitch,” I spit.
“Where’ve ya been?” I stare at him, unwilling to answer. He won’t approve. “You're a grown woman, Jo. I won’t fault ya for havin’ some fun. I hope you’ve been careful. I haven’t been cleaning up your messes.”
Stafford thinks I've been raging across Asphodel with my pent-up energy and doling out violence instead of holing up with the enemy. I can use it to my advantage. For the last few weeks I've been calm, ignoring the creeping darkness. Aedon’s presence has kept it at bay, but now that stress is setting in it creeps back up.
“I’ve only been going after information. I haven’t been caught. I know better than that,” I lie.
“Good,” his tone is clipped. “I have a feelin’ things are goin’ to get worse. I’ve got somethin’ to take the edge off. I know you're jonesin’.”
“You do?” Thank the fucking Universe. Sex is great, but I do crave a blood-soaked violence.
“Someone told our friends about my investments. It’s how they found your place.”
“Do you know who did it?”
“One of our own, unfortunately.”
“Who?” I ask eagerly.
He bares those frightening gold teeth. “McFadden.”
“Fucking trash,” I growl. My hands start to shake uncontrollably with rage.
“Took his own tongue before we got to him,” Stafford tuts. “Figured ye’d like dibs.”
It’s unheard of for Rems to turn on each other. We fight amongst ourselves, but letting an outsider in on our personal business gets you killed. That’s why everyone was outside whispering. News of McFadden’s betrayal must have spread quickly. I’m sure Stafford wasn’t quiet about it. McFadden will be killed for this. I want to feel bad for him, but I don’t. Took his own tongue. What a fucking coward.
McFadden is an asshole and always has been. He bitched the most about me being allowed to work with them and tried to make my life hell. There have been rumors about some of his business dealings for a long time. He skimmed off the top, and Stafford always let him, despite mine and Caleb’s protests. Should’ve known he would be a traitor. It will be a pleasure doling out his punishment after years of his abuse.
Chapter eighteen
Josephine
For three days I tortured McFadden. I probably drew it out a little more than necessary, but I needed to release some of the vengeful anger that's been brewing since the day it all turned upside down. Stafford left me to it for a while before bringing in the others. It’s the only time I really let myself go this far. I’ve doled out punishments, but nothing this severe. I don’t like killing, but I’ll make you wish for it. Caleb is the one with the iron fist. I have more fun playing with toys, not breaking them.
What McFadden did was personal. Not only to me, but to everyone else. He endangered everyone’s lives because of his greed. We’re a proud people, but no one among us is afraid to get messy.
His head hangs over his chest, like he’s just passed out instead of being almost lifeless. Blackened bruises line both sides of his face, and there's a red line around his neck where he was strangled close to death more than once. ‘Traitor’ has been carved across his chest. The smell of iron and burnt flesh permeates the air. Blood pools on the floor underneath him and covers my body. With how much there is you would think he had bled out already, but I’m not a merciful bitch.
I thought maybe I could feed some of the darkness swirling inside of me, the one that ruptures in Aedon’s presence. Usually, it’ll recede and slowly build back up waiting for the next dance with death, but it’s still hungry. Each inflicted torture made me aroused. It’s sick. I can usually relieve stress, not channel it into unbearable sexual frustration.
“Really went all out, didn’t ya?” Stafford strides in followed by Caleb, dismissing the others. I stare at McFadden’s slouched form in silence. His eyes roll over me. “Next time I give ya a leave, remind me not to.”
I look down at myself. My knuckles are bruised and bleeding. Blood stains my hands and is encrusted in my nail beds. It drips down my arms and is soaked into my clothes. I’m sure it’s smeared on my face. My hair is matted with it. I can’t help myself. I smile.
“There she is,” Stafford grins. “Ya should shower before we go.”
“Go?”
