Page 145 of Shattered Pieces

“How does one accidentally beat their wife?” Marco scoffed, holding the knife out for me. “He was cheating on her and it made him paranoid that she was cheating on him too. He started hitting her. Ironically, the woman he was seeing found out about the wife and saw the bruises. I thought it was kind of sweet how they became best friends and took him for everything in the divorce. It’s why the pathetic prick started borrowing more money than he could pay back.”

The guy’s hand was right there on the ground, so I slammed the tip of the blade straight down on one of his fingers. He screamed, and Marco silently moved to hold him still as I stabbed at it again, the finger being held on by a tiny thread. I reached out and yanked it, pulling it from the hand, and then I started with the next finger.

My blood was pumping as I worked, and it wasn’t until Marco chuckled and slid an arm around me to pull me away from the guy that I realized I’d zoned out.

Brent was passed out from the pain by this point, my breathing rapid as I tried to catch my breath.

“Damn, babe. That was hot,” Marco murmured, reaching out to wipe a speck of blood from my cheek. I was practically buzzing, his eyes darkening as he kept watching me. “Stop looking at me like that or I’ll fuck you right here on the floor.”

I almost wanted him to. This was a rush I hadn’t expected.

Was I turned on right now?

Marco took the knife from my hand and stood, pulling me up with him.

“Now what?” I asked, finding my voice.

“I’ll call Bobby in to deal with this,” he replied, making me wince.

“Did I kill him?”

“No, but I will. I only told you not to because I wanted the guy to suffer for a while first. You’ve got a temper on you, you know?” he grinned, bending down to grab a fist-full of Brent’s hair and bringing the knife around to his throat to slit it with ease. “Once Bobby gets here, we can head to the warehouse. Wash your hands and the jacket sleeves as best as you can. There’s a bathroom at the warehouse, so we’ll wash up properly there.”

“Does the door lock? I don’t like the idea of being naked there,” I said dryly, coughing slightly as my throat burned.

“It does, but I’ll also guard it if it makes you feel better. Unless you’d prefer that I just join you? I can protect you and we’d be saving water,” he joked, putting his phone to his ear as he must have found Bobby’s contact. “Hey. Your click and collect order is ready.”

It shouldn’t have been funny, but a giggle escaped me, and Marco shot me a look of amusement. I never thought I’d be standing in a house murdering people with Marco and laughing at his jokes, but here we are.

He pointed to the sink as he finished his call, so I walked over to wash up, unsure how this was a good idea. I’d be touching the taps for starters.

“Hey. We’re torching the place,” Marco said to reassure me as he appeared beside me, noticing my hesitation.

“Because that worked out so well last time for me,” I grumbled as I reached out to turn on the tap, coughing as my throat finally got pissed off about all the talking I’d been doing. I really needed to ice it again.

“That was different. Stop talking,” he said dryly, and I didn’t argue because my throat was really starting to hurt.

By the time Bobby arrived, I felt tired, and Marco gave me a knowing look. “Bit of an adrenaline crash?”

“I think so,” I yawned, Bobby eyeing Brent’s body before looking over at me.

“You could’ve freaked her out by doing that in front of her,” he said to Marco, who smirked.

“I only slit his throat at the end, the rest was all her. I might buddy up with her more often, it was fun.”

Bobby frowned, flicking his gaze to me. “You did that?”

“Don’t let her talk. Hunt will kill me if her throat gets worse,” Marco said with amusement, swinging an arm around my shoulders. “Ready to hit the road?”

“Can we head to Hunter’s to clean up? I’d feel better in my own clothes,” I admitted between coughs, making him nod.

“Sure. We’ll do that then head to the warehouse. We can watch some of the fight training.”

I liked that idea, so we said goodbye to Bobby, who was still eyeing me like he didn’t believe I’d hacked up Brent’s hands, and headed outside to get on the bike.

The ride back to Mount Mercer was nice, the crisp air sending a chill through me and making me hold onto Marco a little tighter. It seemed like he wasn’t in a hurry, taking his time as he slowly wove back and forth along the road.

Despite the chill in the air, the sun was out, so I was glad to be able to relax and enjoy the ride.