I toss a pitcher of ice water at his face. “Wake up, sunshine.”
I currently have the asshole tied up to a chair in my basement.
And let me tell you, it’s a sight for sore eyes.
Scott’s head lolls to the side and he mumbles something incoherent, but I can’t make out what it is because I secured a piece of duct tape over his mouth.
Since the ice water didn’t rouse him enough to my liking, I try a different tactic.
I pick up my taser again, only this time, I aim it at his head.
He wakes with a jolt—a very literal one—and the pain that illuminates his face is like nothing I’ve ever seen before.
Oh, but I’ve felt it.
I’ve felt it every time he pushed me into a locker or punched me in the face.
I felt it with every insult he tossed my way.
I felt it when he kissed her in front of me.
I felt it when he gripped her arm hard enough to bruise her delicate flesh.
And I definitely felt it when he cracked that bat over my skull and left me for dead on the side of the road silently begging God or whatever great being might exist in the world for one more chance to see her before I left the planet for good.
Stalking toward him, I grab the back of his head, forcing him to look at me.
“What’s the matter, Scott? You don’t recognize me?”
He blinks, confusion etching his face.
Leaning over, I hiss, “Want a clue?”
Reaching under his chair, I pull out a metal bat. It’s almost identical to the one he used on me.
Only unlike him, I don’t plan on using it.
No, what I have planned is much more sinister.
His eyes widen with recognition and a hint of fear.
Good.
However, it’s not enough.
I want his tears, his remorse.
I want his motherfucking soul right before I send it straight to hell where it belongs.
But, first? It’s time to have some fun.
“Do you know what this is?” I ask, picking up the instrument.
Not waiting for a response—given the fucker can’t give me one—I hold it up and smile.
“It’s a dermatome,” I explain, my orbs becoming tiny slits. “It’s used for skin grafting.”
The confusion in his eyes changes to terror and he starts rocking back and forth in his chair.
I can’t help but laugh because the fucker can rock and roll all he wants it still won’t make a damn bit of difference. I’ve secured him so tight he isn’t going anywhere.
Snatching a pair of scissors next, I cut his pant leg off.
I figure we’ll start small and work our way up.
Until his outsides match his insides…and he resembles the monster he truly is.
“This—” I utter as I turn the instrument on and angle it over his thigh. “Is for putting me in the hospital.”
Sweat pours down his face and his body breaks out in shudders as his skin comes off, now resembling a slice of Swiss cheese.
He tries to scream, but it’s nothing but a muffled, obscure sound in the dimly lit room.
Lifting his shirt, I decide to go for his stomach next.
I can’t help but notice he’s gone soft around the middle.
The douchebag has clearly let himself go since high school.
“Haven’t been to the gym in a while, huh?”
And because I want him to hurt even more, I add, “Maybe that’s why Violet spent the night riding my face.” Positioning the dermatome over where his abs used to be, I narrow my gaze. “Or maybe it’s because you’re a piece of shit who likes to cheat on women and put your hands on them when they tell you to fuck off.”
He spasms, making a whiney, desperate noise in the back of his throat as tears fill his eyes.
“You never deserved her.” Ignoring my disgust, I undo the zipper on his jeans. “I figure it’s only fair to warn you...this next one’s gonna hurt, ass—”
The sound of my doorbell ringing cuts me off.
CHAPTER NINE
Saturday
Violet
“Violet?” Zander blinks, seemingly startled to find me on his doorstep. “Uh, is everything alright?”
I think I should be asking him the same question. He looks oddly tense, and suddenly, I’m second guessing my plans to come here. But when I look up into his eyes, I can’t help but feel like it will be the biggest mistake of my life if I walk out of here right now.
“Why did you stop talking to me?” I blurt. “Why did you get so mad? We were friends, and then you just… ghosted me.”
My voice wavers a little, and I try to compose myself, but Zander can still see me breaking inside. His face softens as he studies me, and within a second, he’s pulling me inside the house and wrapping me up in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into my hair as he breathes me in. “At the time, I thought I was doing what was right. I was pissed at you because of what Scott told me the night he beat my skull in.”
“What?” I lean back and stare up at him. “He… he hurt you?”
“He beat the ever loving fuck out of me,” Zander answers darkly. “And he told me it was a game you two liked to play. Is it true?”
“Oh my God.” I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. “No, never. I would never do that to you, Zander. I was… I was in love with you. It wrecked me when you walked out of my life, and I know it was all my fault. I should have had the courage to ditch Scott a long time ago. I should have done a lot of things differently, but I never wanted him to hurt you. If I had known that, I would have dumped his ass immediately. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Zander is quiet for a moment, watching me like he’s trying to read me. He’s always been good at that. He’s the one person I could never lie to.
“It sounds like we both made a lot of stupid mistakes,” he mutters.
“What do you mean?”
He sighs and releases me, turning away and dragging a hand through his hair. “I knew you were moving in here. That’s why I bought this house. I wanted you to know what it was like. I wanted to make you fall for me so I could drop you cold once you did. I only came here because I wanted my revenge.”
My heart kicks against my chest, and I’m not sure whether to run or cry. A solitary tear slides down my cheek and I wipe it away. The easiest thing would be to leave and nurse my wounds at home until I can pretend like none of this ever happened. But I’m so fucking tired of pretending. I want to fight for this. I refuse to believe that Zander doesn’t feel anything for me. There’s too much history between us for that to be true.
“Do you still want that revenge?” I ask.
He turns slowly, his eyes roaming over my body with a heat I can feel even from a few feet away.
“I just want you.”
I’m not sure who moves first. All I know is within seconds, we’re colliding into each other with a passion unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. Our lips clash, and we’re a tangled mess of hands and teeth and breaths as we undress each other. Zander discards my shirt and jeans, leaving them in the entryway before he scoops me up over his shoulder and hauls me down the hallway to his bedroom.