Page 161 of Vile Bastards
I circle back around to stand in front of Chet Archer’s oldest son. He has two younger ones, but this is the only one whose dark deeds I’m certain of, and that’s rule one, the biggest difference between an anti-hero and an idiot: ensure the person you’re about to torture deserves it.
And Cody?
Oh, he deserves it many times over.
“That’s going to be you, Cody.” I squat down in front of him, tapping the scalpel against my left palm while I hold onto it with my right. “To the pain. If we didn’t have other plans for you, well, it’d be to the death instead. Count your blessings, my friend.”
He continues to scream as Alexei scowls and turns away.
“Finish this quickly. Just the sight of him irks me. If he sticks around any longer, I might just blow his brains out the way I did to Bryson.” Alexei turns away as Cody’s screams rachet up even further, and I sigh.
These rich boys, so dramatic.
I wonder how Cody will continue to victimize others with his cock cut off?
Guess we’ll see.
“Wait.” I stop Alexei in his tracks, smiling at him as he glances over his shoulder to stare at me. “Do me a favor.”
“What do you want?” he grinds out, and my smile grows just a tad wider.
“Can you please say, ‘My name is Alexei Grove. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’ It’d really take The Princess Bride references full circle.”
Alexei just stares at me, turns around, and crosses his arms over his chest.
Sigh.
He isn’t going to say it, is he? But he is going to watch. Good enough.
I turn back to Cody.
“You’re going to deliver a message to daddy dearest for us. Think you can handle that? Because if you mess this up, I’ll stalk you in the shadows for as long as it takes. Years, even. I am that patient, dear Cody. And when I find you, you’ll wish you were dead.”
I adjust my grip on the scalpel, and then I start to cut.
“You look beautiful when you sleep,” I murmur, squatting down beside Scarlett’s bed. Her eyes crack open to look at me, the lids heavy with sleep but her irises bright with annoyance. I reach out to stroke some hair back from her forehead, and she sits up with a groan.
“What fucking time is it?” she mumbles, reaching over to grab her phone. I clamp my hand over hers, and she shudders at my touch. “What are you doing here?” Scarlett glances back at the window, as if wondering how I got in here.
Actually, I used the front door this time. I stole her house key from her and made a copy before returning it; she didn’t even notice. I pride myself on being able to one-up her on occasion. Not out of some foolish sense of pride, but only because if I’m better than Scarlett Force at certain things, it’s easier for me to keep her safe.
Of course, I’m not about to tell her any of that.
Instead, I smile and push forward, so that Scarlett’s scooting back in her bed, and I’m climbing in beside her. I lay on my side, hands pillowed beneath my cheek as I study her expression, ethereal and otherworldly in the moonlight.
“You look like some gloriously vengeful ghost, the sort that lures men to their graves.”
Scarlett snorts and reaches up, pushing back impossibly long strands of raven-colored hair.
“Any man that creeps on a ghost thinking he’s about to get his rocks off is probably better off dead. Good riddance. Where are those vengeful ghosts when you need them?” She huffs again, drawing her knees up and putting her arms around them. I do my best not to smile at that—it’d be a dead giveaway—but I want her to know that I am that vengeful ghost.
Anyone that bothers Scarlett is worth a haunt.
“You’re thinking about Chet Jr. Cody Archer.” It’s not a question; I know where her mind’s gone. I know her far better than she thinks I do. “Don’t. He isn’t worth the neurons.”
“He told me that he and Aspen used to take turns on Lemon.” Scarlett adjusts herself so that she’s lying on her side facing me, pretty lips pulling down into a frown. “Do you think that’s true?”
I say nothing because Ash Kelly has yet to divulge his secret.
At least, he hasn’t divulged it to Scarlett. He told me which I find quite odd. I’m convinced at this point that he believes we’re becoming friends. The idea of it makes me shudder, but that’s neither here nor there.
I reach out a hand to brush some of Scarlett’s dark hair back again. Does she know that the video Widow uploaded for her earlier is going viral? Does she know how many people find her inspirational? Female, poor, disregarded.
Talented.
“Even without P-Trip, you’ll be famous someday. If it’s what you want, I’ll make it happen for you.”
