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The door flies open.
“No can do, Carter.” Killian marches inside in all his glory, taking in the scene in the room, then closing the door. “I can’t show our prospective member the room downstairs when I’m like…this. When we have a second transgression within less than forty-eight hours.”
His violence is much different from mine. There’s no smile on his face. In fact, his expression betrays nothing. Which means he’s in a murderous mood.
A torturing one he doesn’t want to take out on Amara.
“What’s this?” Archie whimpers from the floor.
I twist my foot, winking at the screaming asshole.
“You have someone down there?” Luna’s eyebrows scrunch. “I was hoping we could show Archie around. Make him pay.”
“Any other day, we would.” Killian places a hand on her shoulder, a comforting father figure. “We have a woman and her friend checking the space out. We’ll be there in a few to supervise.” Killian’s dark eyes zoom in on Archie’s tear-stricken face. “Right after we’re done here. You did good, Luna. You’re dismissed.”
She doesn’t protest. We have our reasons, and she rarely doubts us. Her heels clink as she leaves, and when the door closes, we’re alone in the office with Archie’s sobs.
After I relay the full story to Killian, he cocks an eyebrow at me. “You’ve got something in mind for him?”
“I don’t like his face.” My voice, laced with amusement, causes Archie to lift his hands. A derisive laugh bubbles in my throat. “Nice try, loser.”
“Not a fan of it, either.” Killian’s kicks Archie’s ear from under him. “I’d love nothing more than remove it.”
“No,” Archie screams.
Most of them do.
I’d say I’m immune to it, but that’d be a lie. I live for their screams.
“Yes.” I leave his smashed crotch, crouching next to his face. “You weren’t a coward when you messed with Kim. What’s changed?”
“It was a mistake. I’m sorry.”
“We’re way past that.” Killian crouches at his other side, peeling Archie’s hands off his face. “Way, way, past sorry.”
My eyes cut to Killian. I see I was right. He imagines it could’ve been Amara instead of Kim.
Meaning there’s no saving Archie.
Meaning he’s in for a world of pain.
“Help.” Another half-assed cry. “God, help me.”
“God doesn’t hang around Voltage.” I lift my knife to his face. “Or haven’t you noticed?”
My left nut sack doesn’t give two shits about Archie’s reply. No part of me does. Hence why I don’t wait for him to respond.
I go straight for the kill. Archie’s skin breaks easily when I slice the perimeter around his face. While Killian holds the loser down by the shoulders. I make sure to go deep.
It’ll help Killian later.
“Go at it.” My tongue swipes across my bottom lip as I watch Archie’s blood pouring like a waterfall to the floor. “He’s all yours.”
“Ugly”—Killian buries his fingers beneath the skin of Archie’s forehead—“fucking”—he pulls, grunting as Archie starts puking and shaking on the floor—“face.”
Since Archie’s skin is putting up a fight, I assist Killian. I shove my knife further beneath Archie’s skin, cutting, cutting, and cutting.
Once Killian begins removing Archie’s face now, it’s easy for him. He’s persistent while he removes the man’s forehead, eyebrows, cheeks and nose.
