Page 86 of Unthinkable

EPILOGUE

IMMIE

Brett is hanging from a chain hooked into the ceiling of our swimming pool room.

His feet slip on the floor as he lamely attempts to keep himself standing upright.

From the daybed, I watch as Jensen prowls the pool area like a predator about to strike, and his fists pump beside him. He’s itching to maim and destroy Brett.

“Tell me again,” Jensen bites out.

“He touched my panties.”

His gaze snaps to mine, and he comes to a standstill. “Did he do more?”

“No. But he scared me, Daddy. I don’t want anyone touching me there but you.”

The anger slips from his face, and his features soften, then in two strides, he’s at the daybed, cupping my face. His wild eyes flicker over me. “I’m going to hurt him, Little Nightmare. Are you sure you want to stay?”

An unusual sensation builds in my core. His brutal words and equally feral stare have unlocked something inside of me. I lick my lips; my heart beats faster.

“I want to see.”

His mouth twitches before a smile dances on his lips. “Very well.”

He steps back, taking my breath with him.

Then he bends and pulls out his knife, the one Sal gave him as a teenager.

He strides toward Brett. “I once told you if you touched my bike, I’d cut off your hand.”

Brett’s face pales. “Please, no!”

“But not only did you touch my bike, you touched my girl.”

“I didn’t know she was yours!”

He slams his fist into Brett’s face, and a crack rips through the air.

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

Jensen slams the knife into Brett’s stomach, and it’s mesmerizing.

A loud wail echoes off the walls, and excitement swells inside me.

Jesus, I’m fucked up.

Maybe hearing Jensen unleash on a monster is what I need to feed my soul. Finally, some retribution for the trauma I’ve been through. Though Jensen assured me he dealt with the perpetrators, watching it and knowing for sure is something I’ve wanted for a long time.

Brett’s scream brings me back to the present, and I watch in sick fascination as Jensen uses his knife to hack away at his wrist.

Blood spurts in every direction, and Brett’s lame attempts to kick Jensen have no effect on him at all. Jensen bares his teeth like a deranged animal, and I itch to go kiss him.

At some point, Brett passes out, and when his wrist detaches from his body, he’s left hanging from the hook by one hand.

Jensen turns to face me. “I’m going to wake him up.” Blood is splattered over his face, and I can’t wait to clean him. To cover him in my scent again, making him mine for eternity.

He unhooks the chain above Brett’s head, causing his body to slump to the tiled floor. Then he grabs hold of Brett’s untouched arm and drags him over to the pool before twisting it at such an awkward angle it snaps.