Page 39 of Rascal

“That’s true,” King called from the bathroom.

“Asshole! Stop listening in and come and release me,” I snapped.

“Nope, you’re fine where you are. I might borrow them after. Make sure you stay put,” King shot back.

“I’m an adult!”

“Then act like one. Work with, not against, me. We’ll find that bitch together and take her down. I swear I won’t touch her. She’s all yours, that’s what you want, right? Blood?”

“Who the fuck are you?” King asked, coming out wearing sweats and a tee, and staring at Shane incredulously.

Doubt crossed Shane’s face.

“I want her screams, pain, regret, blood and life,” I seethed. “That cunt owes me that and more. Jane will suffer at my hands, and she’ll understand exactly what she subjected me to. And when she can’t talk because she’s begged herself hoarse, I’ll hurt her more. She won’t know when I’m going to give her that final blow, and I’ll keep that bitch on edge.”

“Damn, you’re hot,” King remarked, eyeing me with fake intensity. I launched a pillow at him. “You put that overused cock anywhere near me, I’ll bite it off.”

“Tell me that’s not hot?” King inquired of Shane, who was gazing at me. Lust flickered across his face before disappearing.

“Mail’s here,” King announced, heading downstairs.

“King, you raging asshole,” I shouted.

“That’s me.”

“Shane, so help me God, if you don’t…”

“Shut up, Hallie. You’re talking too much,” Shane demanded, and I gaped. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and Shane sat back and watched.

“I’m going to hurt you so badly,” I threatened.

Shane just shrugged. “Whatever. You can do that once we find Jane.”

“Here.” King threw a brown envelope at me, and I looked down. It had my name and nothing else, and my gut clenched. I opened it, ignoring Shane.

“Lovely, a poison pen letter,” I said. “Looks like Jane is resorting to cheap tricks as she can’t physically reach me now.”

Both Shane and King lunged.

I shrieked and backed up against the headboard. “I will kick both your asses!” I yelled.

Shane stopped himself in time, but King crashed into me. A muffled squawk came from me, and then I sank my teeth into his pec.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” King roared and shoved backwards, using my stomach to do so. He pushed the air out of me, and I wheezed.

“I’m going to kill you,” I panted, trying to catch my breath.

King made a second grab for the letter, ignoring me, but Shane snatched it first.

“Fingerprints!” I yelled.

Shane waggled it, showing he was holding it with his tee. I refused to look at the strip of tight abs now on display. The Shane I’d loved hadn’t been so ripped. And that was enough of that reminiscing. I hated him, and I needed to remember that, although I did take a second glance. Yeah, nothing there to tempt me.

“Wow, she has a hatred for you,” Shane muttered.

“The bitch shot me; I think that’s a given,” I replied.

Shane turned the letter toward King, who looked worried. Jane had outdone herself. There was a woman’s figure pasted to the paper with her insides ripped out. My head was stuck to the top of the body with my eyes gouged out and my throat slit. On the floor were my intestines, with animals feeding on them.