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Lunatics?
This asshole calleduscrazy? Oh, he was about to meet his worst nightmare.
We quickly moved forward a step with a grunt, and the jackass jumped. Startled, Sebastian moved backward like a stray dog with his tail between his legs. Phony-ass bitch.
“Okay… Okay… You want money?” Sebastian asked as his voice trembled, and he extended his wallet. “Here. Take it.”
I shook my head.
“Okay, um…” He shoved his wallet back in his pocket and extended his drugs. “Here. Take my pills. I can get—”
I grunted and shot forward until a squeak echoed down the alleyway. Sebastian stumbled and lost his footing, falling to the ground. Saint laughed as Sebastian scurried back to his feet, and he repeatedly searched behind him. There was nowhere to go and no place to hide. He had no choice but to meet his fate.
We cornered our little donkey at the dead-end, with our masks surely giving him a fright. In the process of his pointless escape, he dropped his roids, and we trapped him up against a tall chain-link fence.
“P-please… I could give you anything you want. Just let me go. I—”
Not so big and tough now. Are you,Mr. Chamberlain?
I snapped my fingers, and he shut the fuck up. My head tilted to the side, and I watched as the fucker pissed himself right in front of us. I bet he wet his bed as a kid.
The lighting was enough to catch the embarrassment he felt cross his face. The shame he had excited me; it was a rush I had been impatiently waiting for, a thrill I took great pride in as Saint reached out and clenched his throat, his hand wrapping right around his windpipe.
“Fuc—” Saint didn’t let him finish as Sebastian gasped for air, and he struggled against his hold.
But he was no match for my buddy.
His hands could thrash, he could kick his puny legs, and he could fight. Saint would only squeeze tighter until he broke his trachea, but I’d love to watch. To observe as his eyes filled with fear of his oncoming death. All bloodshot and gross while they popped out of his head from the force. His face would turn red, and his mouth would be wide as he clung to hope for a breath of air. Then his body would go limp with the struggle he tried to keep up gone. Lifeless. Dead.
But I had no such luck.
So, I continued our song. “A-hunting we will go, a-hunting we will go…”
Saint sensed the end and let go. Sebastian dropped to the ground as he brought a hand up to his throat.The other held up his weight on the asphalt as he panted at our feet. We peered down at him as he probably gathered his whereabouts after he almost blacked out.
“Jesus Christ!” he choked out. “You could’ve fucking killed me!”
Believe me. We want to. So fucking bad the idea of your death pained our souls.
“We’ll catch the jackass and…” Saint added.
“What the—AH!” I stomped on his left hand, cutting short his tangent and causing him to cry out in pain.
I sang, “Crack some limbs…”
Sebastian cracked like a twig. The delightful sound of another bone breaking filled the nighttime air as Saint stomped on his right hand before he could even hold himself up. The howls of agony were music to our ears as we heard another crack when his face hit the ground.
We bent down as Saint grabbed Sebastian by the hair, and we admired his ugly gravel-beaten face. The shitbag mumbled something incoherent, and I spit in his face. His low-life, useless existence deserved an end, but we couldn’t yet. We’d make sure he suffered in the meantime, and our girl could live without fear of him.
“And never have him hurt again.” I ended our song with a punch to his face and it was lights out for Mr.Sebastain Chamberlain. He went limp, and at least I got my one wish. But he deserved far worse.
“Grab his wallet. Make this look like a robbery,” Saint said as he pushed his face into a muddy puddle and flipped him over as if he was a rag doll.
“Got it.”
We peered down at the prick who hurt Liv with our fists clenched, ready to strike again, but we held back. This was all for her. To protect our girl from this monster who lived under the same roof as her. If she wouldn’t let us kill him for her, then we’d bide our time until we could. Sebastian was a dead man walking with broken hands, and he wouldn’t be able to use them to hurt her anytime soon.
Thirty-Two
