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Big stared into his eyes, saw capillaries had burst, the whites now red, his face a ruddy color and his mouth opening and closing, his body desperate for air.
Big sensed Mayhem right behind him, so he glanced over his shoulder and saw the other patch leaning against the couch, his arms crossed over his chest.
Big turned back to Steven, stared at his throat, at the skin that was white beneath his hand because he was squeezing so tightly, and lifted his gaze to Steven’s face.
“Ppp-please,” Steven gasped out, the man trying to beg for his life. Big had no compassion, but he loosened his hold enough so the motherfucker could gasp for air. He still held on to his throat because no way was this prick getting off easy.
“I could snap your neck, and it wouldn’t take any effort, like breaking a toothpick in half.” Big didn’t know what Claire had seen in this prick, didn’t even care anymore. “You fucked with my woman, the girl I love, and the one who’s my old lady.” Big leaned in. “Do you know what that means?”
The man gurgled, able to breathe—somewhat—but not able to actually answer. Big hadn’t even asked the question to garner a response, because he didn’t care what this motherfucker had to say. All he cared about was making him pay.
“I—” Steven gurgled again, and Big smirked, not finding this humorous but feeling an evil, dark side rise up in him.
“You what? Couldn’t help yourself? Didn’t mean to hit her and put your goddamned hands on her?” Big lifted an eyebrow, waiting for a response. Steven shook his head, clawed at Big’s hand, but he held firm on the prick, made sure he knew who was stronger. “I want to kill you so damn badly. Want you to hurt far more than you hurt Claire.” He leaned in closer to Steven. “I want you to cry and beg for mercy.”
“Please,” Steven finally wheezed out.
Big knew this type of guy, had seen them countless times. They were assholes, abusers of women because they saw them as inferior, weak. They talked a lot, made threats, and exerted their control and power on them.
But when they were up against real men, all bets were off. They were nothing but little bitches who shit their pants and begged for mercy.
“She doesn’t want him dead,” Mayhem said in a bland voice.
Yeah, Big knew that, and as much as he wanted to say fuck it and just gut this worthless piece of shit and be done with it, not follow anyone’s rules but his own, the fact remained that he’d do anything for Claire.
She asked him not to kill Steven for the sole reason that she thought it wouldn’t tarnish Big’s and Mayhem’s already black, damaged souls. She didn’t want this hanging over them, and as much as he wanted to just end this asshole’s life, go back to her, and lie about it, he wouldn’t do that.
He let go of Steven, watched the prick fall to the floor, scrambling for air, trying to stand, and in one swift move, Big brought his boot to Steven’s gut. He slammed against the wall hard, gasped out in pain, and Big kicked him again.
He then reached down and hauled him off the ground, brought his fist back, and slammed his knuckles into the side of Steven’s face. He heard bone crunch, saw blood start to pour out of Steven’s nose, and loved the sound of his cries as agony consumed him.
“I could hit harder and make it hurt even more,” Big said in a deadly, soft voice. “I could make you cry like a little bitch, begging for your life as I peeled your fingernails away and shove them down your throat.” The sound of Steven whimpering was music to Big’s ears. “I could break every one of your fingers, gouge your eyes out, and cut you in just the right place where you wouldn’t die right away.” The sound of liquid hitting the floor filled Big’s ears, and he looked down.
“Damn, the dude’s pissing himself,” Mayhem said behind Big.
Big let go of the pussy and stepped back, a snarl on his face. “You sorry piece of shit. You hurt our girl, and I’m glad she got one in on you, but you threaten her again, contact her, come after her, or even think about her—” Big stepped an inch closer again. “If you even fucking think about her, you maggot, just know we’ll be waiting for you, and we won’t let you off this easy next time. You understand me?”
Steven started nodding quickly, his face a broken, bloody, and bruised mess.
Big had to force himself to turn away, but as he got to the front door, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. Mayhem was standing in front of Steven now, cracking his knuckles and rolling his head to the left and right, stretching out the muscles.
