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•Nineteen •
“My little brother has had his switch flipped.”
Sebastian
The cry of pain that met my ears did nothing to appease the increasing darkness spreading through me. It was as if I no longer recognized myself. That the man I knew was standing back and watching the transition take place and doing nothing to stop it.
I stalked through the underground tunnel toward the sound. The smell of Thatcher’s cigarette smoke met my nose before I reached the door leading into the room where they had Vinson Shelton strapped up. His wrists were tied together and pulled up tight from the chain that hung from the ceiling. There was some blood on his face, but not much. Yet.
His eyes swung to me as I walked all the way into the room, and I saw the anger flash in them at the realization that I was behind this. I was glad those eyes looked nothing like his daughter’s.
“Is this about Royal?” he spit. “What did that little slut do?”
I didn’t stop walking until my fist slammed into his nose, causing it to spray blood as he let out a pained howl.
Thatcher chuckled behind me, but I didn’t turn to look at any of them.
“Call her one more name, and I will slice off your goddamn dick and shove it in your mouth until you choke on it,” I warned him.
“Shit,” King muttered behind me.
“Oh fuck,” Wells drawled. “I told you not to—”
I turned around and headed toward him. He stopped whatever he was about to say when he looked at me.
A hand wrapped around my arm, and I jerked it back, ready to slam whoever had just touched me into a wall.
Storm’s eyes met mine.
“Deep breath,” he said. “Take a deep fucking breath.” He glanced back at Wells. “You either shut the fuck up or leave.”
“What is wrong with him?” Wells asked.
A deep cackle came from across the room. “My little brother has had his switch flipped.”
I swung my glare to Thatcher.
He took the cigarette from his mouth and held it out to me. “Go ahead. Burn him. Enjoy it. You know you want to cause him pain.”
“Broke my nose,” Vinson said in a garbled voice behind me.
“Oh, he’s gonna do more than that. I can see the manic gleam in his eyes. You can start talking, or he can unleash all the crazed shit building inside him on you. Either way, I’m entertained,” Thatcher told him.
My gaze narrowed when I saw Teller standing in the corner, wide-eyed as he watched me. Turning back around, I studied the man in front of me. Blood clots covered his mouth and down his neck. His eyes were starting to swell. Neither made me feel peace or even a shred of satisfaction. The creature controlling me wanted anguish, torture, agony.
“You bruised her. Left your handprints on her skin.” I seethed, moving back to him. Rage rolled off me as my breathing got heavier.
“She was in my face! She bruises easy! Whatever she said, it was a lie!”
A loud, animalistic sound filled the room, and I faintly recognized it as my own voice as I grabbed his arm and twisted it unnaturally until the crack of his bones met the wail that tore from his chest.
“He’s gonna kill him,” Storm warned.
“It’ll take more than that to kill him.” Thatcher’s voice sounded amused.
I ignored them as I grabbed his other arm and did the same with it. Except this time, Vinson’s head fell forward, and there was no sound but the breaking of his bones.
“Is he dead?” Teller asked.
