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Something inside me snaps. “Which way did they go?”
Luca points, “Woman’s bathroom. That way.”
Everything around me turns to white noise as I stomp across the room. It might be my reputation, or my fucking face, but everyone clears out of my way. Making a path for me to take the hall out of the grand room that I need.
I bet the hall is as breathtaking as the rest of the building, but I can’t see straight as I turn and push open the door, halting.
Constance sits on the vanity, her head thrown back as a man latches his disgusting mouth onto her throat. His hands up her skirt. A black haze washes over me as I silently walk over to them, my hand snatching my blade. I twist it between my fingers before stabbing him in the side of the neck. Constance's eyes go wide as the bastard coughs blood all over her chest, some getting on her face.
He falls at my feet, his hand slipping out from under her dress.
“Oh my god.” She whispers, looking down at the man before looking back up at me. “Why did you do that?”
“Why?” I whisper, stepping over the body and pushing her neck back to the mirror. “Why?” I hiss.
“He wasn’t doing anything wrong.” She gasps out.
“You always want to test me. Always trying to get a rise out of me. Do you know who the fuck I am? What I am? Hmm, Little Bird?” I bite her ear. “I’m the Beast of Seattle. The fixer. Everyone’s fucking boogie man,” I growl. “You want to play with me? Take on my brand of fucked? You got it baby.” I bite her cheek.
I release her, watching her gasp as I pull the man's hand up, cutting his hand off. Not an easy feat but practice and pure adrenaline fueled rage makes the process take less time than normal. I sit the hand next to her. Gripping the slit of her dress I rip it, bringing her pink pussy to the surface. “You wanted his fingers in your cunt?” I ask.
She shakes her head, “Atticus, no.”
I run his hand over her legs, my eyes never leaving hers. “Maybe you wanted his tongue in your mouth. Should I cut it out and have you choke on it as I fuck you with his fingers?”
A tear slips down her face as I push one of the corpse fingers in her. “Does it feel good, Little Bird? You like that, hmm?”
She glares through me. Disassociating from the situation. The blank look is the only thing that brings me out of my rage.
Fuck.
I throw the hand down, picking her up and throwing her numb body over my shoulder. She doesn’t fight or even say a word as I walk out, bumping into Andreas. He takes one look at me and then her. “I can assume my solider is dead?”
I bare my teeth at him. “You know not to let others touch what’s mine.”
He shrugs, “At least you’re finally claiming her.”
I glare at him, walking away. I leave my car there, too pissed to drive. I throw her into my driver’s backseat and slam the door.
I run my hands down my face, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it as I lean against the building.
Fuck.
Chapter 17
“Depression, suffering and anger are all part of being human.” – Janet Fitch.
I positionthe sheet music of the song I’ve been playing as long as I can remember. The one with missing ending notes. I startwith my warmup of five finger patterns, stretching my fingers out before I begin shadow playing. My left-hand protests but I keep going as I play off beat with it.
I’m not sure when I learned to play the piano. I don’t remember the first feel of the keys beneath my fingers. I think maybe I learned in music class at a young age.
All I know is that these keys are my salvation.
I begin the song, closing my eyes as I get lost with the notes. But when I get to a particular note my fingers slip.
Past
The boy would always wait for me after school. Walking home with me. Since our parents had gotten together, we had formed a friendship. I didn’t know exactly what he was protecting me from, mom always fought with her boyfriends, but this time seemed different.
