Page 20 of Escape

At that moment, something in me flipped. Flashes of Jared getting rough with me blinked behind my eyes…him grabbing my arm, pulling my hair, screaming in my face.

A small bubbling need to make this pathetic excuse of a man be honest and take accountability for once in his life sprouted and spread like a disease.

“Are you just going to fucking stand there or are you going to help me?! We need to get the fuck out of here before they come back!”

I tightened my grasp on my weapon, finger hovering just over the trigger as I watched him try to free himself. I tried to scrounge up any scrap of sympathy for him, but there was none.

“Time is ticking, babydoll.”

The smooth voice sounded through the intercom and a shiver ran down my spine. Funny how just her voice set my body off more than watching my husband struggle for freedom.

Keeping the gun in one hand with my finger on the trigger, I placed the other tools back in the silk bag and sauntered over to Jared. My energy was soaking with confidence, vengeance and desire. A sick mix. Devastating for Jared. His eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline as his eyes widened.

“What are you doing? Is the key in there?” He panicked.

I ignored him and spread my assortment of tools on an open desk next to him. His head snapped to the side as he watched me run my fingers over the cool, shining instruments.

“No key,” I deadpanned, feeling the need to get even settle into my skin like a sickness. “Just opportunity.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He flailed around in his chair, failing to break free. “Opportunity for what?”

“You heard the sick fuck.” I settled on the cutters, lifting them next to my finger to test the size. “They want me to make you admit it and honestly, I want to hear it, too.”

“This isn’t fucking funny, Jasmine. You know my family. You know my connections. You won’t get away with this.”

I laughed, trailing the tip of the tool over his knuckles.

“I wouldn’t worry about what I’m getting away with.”

I took his middle finger in mine and lifted it, settling it between the edges. He jerked, causing it to graze his skin and draw a little blood.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. What if you accidentally…cut your finger off?”

“Jasmine, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” He screamed into my face, spittle spraying all over me. “Are you fucking this freak?!”

My frustration boiled over. Before I realized what I was doing, I squeezed the handles of the cutter with all my strength. The crunch of bone-breaking that rattled through my skin was sickening yet strangely satisfying, mixed with Jared’s screams.

Blood spurted from his hand as his middle finger fell and rolled onto the floor. Warm globs dripped in heavy streaks down my forehead, cheek and chest. A small chuckle bubbled in my chest as a deranged smile stretched my lips.

“So.” Jared’s fingers flexed as I repositioned the cutters over his pinky finger. “Did you do it?”

“I…N-”

“Ah, ah,” I tutted as I gently squeezed the handles, not enough to cut. “Don’t lie, honey.” I leaned in so my lips grazed his ear. “I have a scalpel and a hammer on that desk that might assist you in being a little more honest if you’d like.”

He pressed his lips shut. His whole body trembled as he tried to keep his cool. I squeezed the cutters a bit more and shook his head frantically.

“No…no…I-” He sucked in a shaky breath, but it wasn’t good enough.

His whimpers sent shivers all over me. Each cell filled with an intoxicating rush of power, twisting me into an insatiable, gluttonous fiend. I squeezed the handles again, crunching through the skin and bones of his pinky. He screamed as it rolled off, stopping inches away from his discarded middle finger.

“Okay, okay!” He screamed. “I’ll tell you everything! I swear!”

I hummed in acknowledgement as I backed away and laid the tool on the desk. I planted my ass on the table top and crossed my arms and ankles, giving him the floor to speak.

“I did it.” He hung his head in shame.

Grabbing the hammer, I let it hang by my side as a warning.