Page 82 of Love You To Pieces

“Fuck,” the man curses. “You fucking brought them, didn’t you? I should’ve known. I should’ve—” he snarls, cutting off the rest of his words, and grabs me to throw me hard against the conveyor belt again. “Fine,” he snaps. “Fine, then. It’s you and me. You want to kill me?” He scoffs out a laugh. “Then do it. But you aren’t exactly in a good position, are ya?”

He’s right, unfortunately. No matter how much I kick and shriek, my legs and arms working, he’s strong enough to hold me down. He’s not winded enough for him not to laugh in my face, and the smell of his breath makes me recoil.

“Fuck,” I gasp. “What the hell have you been eating?”

“Your friend,” he replies without hesitation, like he was waiting for me to ask. “The girl you were with. Ariana, right?”

My blood goes cold and I look up at him with wide eyes. For some reason, this never occurred to me. I thought once she was dead an-and sold, I didn’t think he could hurt her anymore.

But clearly, I was wrong.

“What is wrong with you?” I breathe. “This is wrong, she didn’t do anything to you!”

“And you think those assholes you’re living with kill people who do something to them?” he roars, irritated. “God, you’re a dumbass little hypocrite, you know that?”

Yeah, I realize.

I really, really am.

But there is a difference, and I have to hold on to that. This man and his brothers tortured Ariana, and they had fun doing it. The Shaw family is different.

Waste not, want not.

There is no necessity in what these brothers do.

“Michael!” The yell from outside is desperate, loud, and echoing. “Michael, help!” It doesn’t sound like either of my men, and I don’t know why they’d be yelling for a Michael, anyway.

When the man above me, whom I suspect is in fact Michael, looks up and away, his grip loosens slightly. It’s just enough, and I yell for Pearl, who surges forward to bite into the meat of his thigh, causing him to cry out and his leg to buckle.

It’s not much, but it’s enough. I struggle to grab him, and my fingers dig into the material of his thin, white t-shirt. With enough effort to make my body scream in protest, I drag him onto the conveyor belt, aided by the fact I’m pretty sure Pearl took some essential muscle with her when she tore backwards.

“Michael, huh?” I pant, shoving him down with my knee in his back. “What’s wrong? Scared they’re going to kill your brother? That they’re going to slaughter him like the meat he is? I don’t think either of you are—What was the term?” Cold rage builds in me, making me feel like a completely different person than Sadie-Rae Barnes.

Maybe she died that day, in the basement of a dirty auto shop, while her friends were being butchered.

Maybe it’s better that she did.

Who I am now doesn’t hesitate. I reach out, not sure if it’ll even work, and kick at the lever on the nearby control stand as hard as I can.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The lever finally moves, and the conveyor belt grinds to life, somehow still working even though this place doesn’t look like it’s got much life left in it, if any. Michael curses and manages to flip onto his side to try to throw me off.

“Prime meat, right?” I pant, fighting to keep him under me as the conveyor belt meant for logs moves jerkily toward the saw. “That’s what you called me?”

The saw catches a few times, spinning once, stopping, and finally picking up fully to whir and buzz in my ears. I can hear old gears grinding, and I doubt this thing will work for very long.

“N-no! No!” Michael fights me, kicking and yelling and fighting me like a rabid animal.

“Well, I don’t think you’re prime meat, Michael,” I admit with a snarl. “But fuck if I’m not willing to find out.” He shoves upwards, and for a moment, I’m scared he’s actually going to get me off him. If I end up on the bottom, then it’s me who’s going to die here, and the surge of rage-filled terror makes me scream and push my hand on his throat to force him back to the belt under me.

He meets my eyes, his gaze full of terror and anger. “You’re just like us,” he tells me, his eyes bright, his voice barely audible with the approaching buzz of saw blades.

“You’re just as much of a monster as⁠—”