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“Is that…”
“Surprise!” Eli yells as if his “extraordinary gift” is an unexpected birthday party or a brand-new Harley.
His so-called gift is being dragged toward me by two guards and he’s not making it easy for them. I can even hear his muffled screeches despite the duct tape wrapped around his mouth.
Eli punches the man on the top of the head, and he slumps unconscious. “Drop him here and leave,” he tells the guards.
“Is that Darren?” I ask just to be sure.
“No kidding,” Eli huffs then swipes the back of his hand over his head as if he was the one who carried a man down here. “A positive ID is appreciated. Good to know I didn’t have a group of men grab the wrong guy and haul him here for a slow, painful death.”
“Wait…why, how is Darrenherein Vegas? He lives in South Carolina.”
“I just told you—for a slow and painful death. For revenge. For what the son of a bitch did to you, fucking with your head and hurting your mom.”
“But…you don’t have to kill him out of revenge for me. Colt and I kicked his ass as payback for what he did to me.”
Scoffing, he says, “You kicked his ass? How long did that take?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t timing it. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes, until he was messed up and down for the count.”
“And you think ten or fifteen minutes of a beating is all he deserves for manipulating you?”
“I mean…I guess I could’ve turned him in to the police, but I was eighteen and didn’t want to have to testify against him or whatever in court.”
“No, Jordan. This manruinedyour life. He deserves nothing less than a slow painful death. You don’t care about him, do you?”
“God, no. I hate that guy. My mom does too.”
“Exactly! So let me hurt him for you.”
I stare at Eli for several long moments as he goes to work to get Darren hung up by his wrists on one of the hooks about ten feet away from my own.
Once he’s done, limp body hoisted into the air, Eli stands back and smiles as he examines his handy work, looking so damn proud of himself.
That’s when it occurs to me that Eli considers this, bringing in the man who fucked with me for weeks, who screwed up my senior year of high school so badly I nearly didn’t graduate and ruined my mom’s marriage, as a gift.
A gift for me from Eli, the crazy, psychotic bastard.
Torturing and murdering the man who hurt me is like his version of a dozen roses.
And I actually think it’s sort of sweet.
“Come here,” I tell him.
“What?” Eli asks. He looks from his new captive to me in confusion.
“Come here!” I order him and this time he actually listens. But he’s still too far away. “Closer. A little bit more. Now stand on the tips of your toes. Perfect,” I tell him before I brush my lips over his.
28
Eli
Idon’t want to get my hopes up, to believe Jordan wanted to see me again.
But the proof in his pants, and his soft kiss is hard to ignore.
“Thank you for my present,” Jordan says softly.
