Bitter Sweet Hell (Hell Night 2)

“That bastard is mine when we find him.” I can barely hear Judge’s words, but it’s enough to bring me back to the present.

JW offers a nod, but tacks on, “You can finish him off, but I get him first.”

Listening to the two talk about murdering another human being should frighten me, but it does the opposite. Diego deserves every bit of what’s coming to him. Thoughts of the pain Jenny went through the last few minutes of her life, mingled with what the other girls went through, has me hoping he suffers greatly. It may make me a bad person, but I can live with that as long as Diego in punished.

Our food is dropped off and the rest of the time there’s idle chitchat around the table. I don’t eat much of my dinner, my stomach still in knots over what I saw last night. It’s going to take a long time before I’m able to wipe those images away.

Unable to stomach anymore, I toss my napkin on the table.

“I’m going to the lady’s room,” I inform JW.

“I’ll go with you. It’s not time to feed him yet, but I want to before he gets cranky,” Remi says, getting to her feet and taking Elijah from Trouble.

JW pulls me down by my shirt for a brief kiss before letting me go. I’m only going to the bathroom and will be gone for few minutes, but it melts my heart that he wants a kiss before I go.

The bathroom is in the opposite corner of where our table is located. There’s a couple of empty pool tables and high-top tables.

“It’s been years since I’ve played pool,” I tell Remi and run my fingers over the felt as we pass by one. “Wonder if I can tempt JW into a game before we leave.”

“Just don’t play Jamie. I thought I was good, until I played her. She won before I even got a chance at a shot,” she laughs. “Although, it was fun to watch her beat Kian. He’s cocky when it comes to pool. Thinks he’s the master.”

I hold the bathroom door open for her. “I’m sure anyone could beat me. I suck, but it’s still fun to play.”

Remi sits and lifts her shirt to feed Elijah as I walk into one of the stalls.

“I think it’s great that you still breastfeed him. I’ve heard that a lot of women don’t make it past the first month or two.”

She snorts. “It’s been a struggle for sure. Those first couple of weeks I felt like my nipples were falling off, but I love knowing that I’m giving him the best nutrients I can.”

After doing my business and flushing the toilet, I go to the sink to wash my hands. I look at her through the mirror. She’s staring down at Elijah with a look of love on her face.

“I’m scared of failing at it when I have kids. I’ve heard it can be extremely painful.”

She lifts her head and meets my eyes. “I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Get past those first couple of weeks and it’s a breeze. My main issue now is if people are secretly criticizing me if I do it out in public. That’s why I try to do it in private if there’s an option.”

I can’t imagine anyone at the table would have an issue with her breastfeeding Elijah. I don’t say that though, because really, how well do I know them? I could be wrong.

She guesses where my thoughts went and smiles. “Nobody out there would care. I don’t really think many people in Malus would have an issue with it either. That’s why I love Malus. It’s the outside world that concerns me. Sometimes I just simply want to do it in private. It’s a sacred bond between Elijah and I, and sometimes I don’t want others to witness it.”

“I can understand that and think it’s incredibly sweet that you want to keep it between you and him at times.”

A few minutes later, Elijah finishes feeding and Remi recovers herself.

“The downside to breastfeeding is the leakage. There’s been many times I’ve been out grocery shopping to realize my shirt has soaked through.”

I wrinkle my nose at that. “Yeah, that would suck.”

Once she’s finished straightening her clothes, we make our way to the bathroom door. Before I can grab the handle, it’s shoved open. I stumble back a step, almost tripping over my feet. Confusion has me frowning when Benjamin steps inside. He looks terrible, like he hasn’t slept in a week and his eyes carry a crazed look.

“Benjamin, what are you doing in here?” Remi asks, stepping up beside me.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice deep and scratchy. “I have no choice.”

“Sorry for what? What’s going on?”

His answer is to lift a gun and point it directly at my head.

I COME TO WITH A KILLER headache and my arms feel like they’re being pulled from their sockets. It only takes me seconds to understand why and panic sets in. My head is hanging from my shoulders, so when I pry my eyelids apart, that panic turns to terror.