Page 52 of Chef
Sage
I always thought rage was white hot. That’s how Mom described it. That when she looked into her father’s eyes, wishing for him to repent and him refusing to, the rage she felt was hot. Burning. Like lava in her veins. It’s a weird thing. Thinking you know what you’ll feel based on other people’s experiences. Because here and now, standing in front of my husband? The rage I’m feeling is cold. Cool in my veins, turning everything to ice.
Takoda reaches for me, but I step back, slowly shaking my head. My gaze travels down his naked chest and stomach, the once smooth, dark skin now mottled with burns. His strong arms littered with tiny cuts. My gaze meets his for a moment before I move to stand behind him. I hold in my gasp as I lay eyes on his back. Flesh torn open. Skin ripped apart by whatever tools of cruelty they decided to use. The blood on the back of his jeans hints that what I’m seeing goes further.
I cup his ass gently and tip my head back in relief when Takoda stands strong, unflinching.
“They didn’t do that.” Takoda’s rough voice croaks out. “Tried other things, but not that.”
His words do nothing to heat the ice in my veins. Instead they cool even further. The clarity in my mind is so peaceful, so perfect because I see what I need to do.
“Sage?” Loyal asks in a quiet voice.
I meet her gaze, then that of Justice, Joe and Damian. “Nathaniel is mine. He doesn’t die here.”
They nod and I move toward the doors of the church. I only look over my shoulder once, eyes on Takoda, willing him to stand down, just this once. He nods wearily at me, leaning onLoyal as she guides him to the DRMC SUV. I know she’ll take care of him. My man needs fluids and probably something in his stomach. He needs his energy back so I can care for him, help heal him. Later.
Taking a deep breath I step up to the doors, ready to kick them open, but instead, they swing open with a gentle creak. I look up at Damian, soft smile on his face as he holds the door for me.
The church is eerily silent except for the sharp intake of breath Justice emits. I stare at his profile, his eyes wide as he takes in the scene.
“Thank god you’re on our side,” Justice mutters.
Damian takes a deep bow before strutting down the aisle and taking a seat in one of the pews, arms stretched along the wooden back, boot resting on his opposite knee.
I share a look with Justice who stoically nods once, making his way around the pews to where there are chino clad bodies neatly stacked.
“Holy -” Joe whispers, her voice cutting off. She stares at me, eyes bugging out before she somehow shakes it off. She jabs a finger in Justice’s direction. “I’ll go help, ah, with the disposal.”
“Sounds good.” It’s the first time I’ve used my voice, the rough sound shocking to my own ears as it echoes in the cool, dim light of the church.
Somehow I find that comforting. The air in here matches that in my lungs. Cool. Calm. Yet oppressive. Damian starts whistlingWhen the Saints go Marching In, and somehow, it seems fitting. Especially as I make my way to the very front of the church. Nathaniel is facing away from me, his head resting on the warm wood of the pulpit, his arms hooked over the sides, as if it's the only thing keeping him standing.
Stepping up onto the raised platform I circle Nathaniel slowly. I want to see exactly what Damian has done to him. I’m not disappointed as I stare at his mangled jaw, dripping with blood,teeth missing. His lips are swollen, as are his eyes, although not swollen enough to not know I’m here.
Nathaniel tries to smile, but I don’t miss his whimper.
“Please, please, I had nothing to do with this, this, whatever this is! Please, let me go!”
My head snaps to the side, eyes landing on the fat camel toe man. I watch as he snivels, curled into a ball on his side.
“Oh yeah, I kept him,” Damian says, waving in the man’s direction. “I want to know why the hell his camel is so big. And I figured he’d be easy to break.” He wags his eyebrows in the man’s direction, causing him to shriek and curl even tighter into himself.
“Joe?” I call out, not taking my eyes off camel toe man.
“On it!” she says cheerily.
She skips up onto the platform, perkily making her way to the man. She bends a little, hooking him under the arm. “Hey there, buddy. We’re gonna get you outta here, OK?” she says in her warm, southern accent, coaxing him to go with her.
I watch as Joe shuffles him toward the door, stifling my laughter when the man shrieks again as Justice throws a body over one shoulder, following them out.
“Cunt.” The word is spat at me. “You waste of fucking space. Do you know what you’ve done? Who you’ve angered?”
Nathaniel watches me with cold eyes, his chest heaving with anger. He spits blood in my direction, whimpering again when he tries to pull himself up to his full height. I have no idea what Damian did to him, but I bet $100 he’s pissing blood.
I watch him until I can’t take anymore. I know what he wants. He wants to feel powerful. So I let him. Dropping to my knees in supplication I stare up at him, measured. Cool. Waiting for the change in him. The change where he thinks he’s won.
He tries to smile. And I know I’ve got him.
