The Hollow (Preacher Brothers 4)

I snorted, but it held no amusement. “You might have consumed her thoughts, but it was for a short period of her life.” I placed the edge of the blade on his chest, not adding pressure, just letting him feel the weight of it. “But I’ll give her so many memories to replace the ones of you that you’ll soon become nothing.”

“You want us out? Or to help end this fucker?” Wilder asked from behind me, and I looked over my shoulder.

“It’s gonna get messy, and I want to do this on my own. I need to.”

All three of my brothers nodded and turned to leave. Although they would have stayed, helped me cut this motherfucker up if I asked, I really did need to end this myself, not just for me, but for Nadja as well. This piece of shit put the fear of God in her for far too long. Now it was my turn to do the same to him.

When we were alone, I grinned, feeling a rush of adrenaline fill me. This was going to be back-alley fighting style, dirty and raw, just the way I fucking liked it.

“I’d tell you to say a little prayer, motherfucker, but the only god you probably believe in is yourself.” I added some pressure with the saw to his chest and felt pleasure when he hissed out in pain. He was a resilient fucker though, keeping his eyes locked on mine and refusing to cry out or beg for me to stop.

He would though.

I let the saw drop to the floor, wanting to get real right now. And so I just let loose. I slammed my fist into his gut then into his side, using him like my own personal punching bag. A left hook. A right one. An undercut to his jaw so hard his head snapped back and blood sprayed from his lips. He did howl then, and I grinned.

I landed blow after blow into the fucker’s face and body until he finally sagged against his bounds as he passed out.

I stepped back and stared at him. Blood was everywhere, covering the floor, my knuckles and arms, even sprayed on my chest. Maximillian looked like a piece of raw meat just hanging there.

Turning and grabbing the bucket of water Wilder brought in when we first showed up, water collected from the canal right behind the building, I doused Maximillian in it. He sputtered to consciousness, and I tossed the bucket aside, the metal clanging against the cement ground.

And then I was back to beating the shit out of him. It didn’t seem like enough, didn’t tame the beast in me or control my bloodlust. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

I don’t know how long I went at Maximillian, but I found myself taking a step back, blood covering me, pieces of flesh on my shirt like some macabre piece of artwork. My chest rose and fell as I breathed harshly, adrenaline pumping through my veins. And even if Maximillian looked dead already, I could see the way he breathed shallowly, heard the moan come from his swollen, battered lips.

I hoped the motherfucker was in pain.

I could have gone all night on him, beating the shit out of him until he passed out, then bring him back with some salt to his wounds. But I wanted to go to Nadja. I wanted to hold her, kiss her, tell her she was safe, that I’d do whatever it took to ensure that.

Maximillian groaned and tried to lift his head. I’d help the motherfucker out. I walked up to him and gripped his chin, forcing his head up. One of his eyes was completely sealed shut, swollen and black and blue. The other was getting there, but the slit told me he could still see out of it. For right now anyway.

And then he grinned slowly, his teeth stained red, several of them chipped from my fists connecting with them. He spoke in Russian, the words garbled. He started laughing again.

“Say it in English, fucker. Be a man and not a coward.” Maximillian sobered at that. Seemed like the prick didn’t like his ego wounded, even if his body was nothing more than a ragdoll at the moment.

“I said,” he wheezed out, “a part of her will always be mine.”

I kept my focused even despite his words penetrating deep. I took a step back and reached behind me to grab the gun I had tucked in the back of my waistband. I could have gone all night torturing him, but it was time to end this once and for all.

I stared into Maximillian’s “good” eye, placed the gun at his temple, and leaned in close to whisper, “You tell yourself whatever you need to in order to make this easier, but know that you’re nothing but the shit on my shoe.” And then I pulled the trigger, blowing his brains out and letting the sound of the gun going off ricochet in my ears, causing this pleasurable ring to settle deep.