Melt For Us(Holiday Masked Men #2)(19)

They scurry away, shooting me alarmed stares in the process.

He heads toward the front entryway, and I slowly creep behind him. Stalking my prey. Ready for revenge. Pushing open the door, he drunkenly stumbles out into the night.

Unfortunately for him, nobody else is anywhere in sight.

He lights up his cigarette, making his way toward the parked cars while I follow closely behind him. At first, I lurk in the shadows, until I intentionally step out beneath the light. Tripping over his own feet, he spins around, catching his fall by grabbing onto the hood of a car.

“Fuck,” he slurs, and suddenly, he looks my way. “Oh, hey, man. Didn’t see you there.”

“No worries,” I bite out, not taking my eyes off him.

“You want a smoke?” he asks, gesturing to the cigarettes in his jacket.

Shaking my head, I step forward, closing in on him. “I’m good,” I smoothly press, the unexpected vibrating of my cell phone catching me off guard.

“You been here before?” he casually asks.

“First time.”

“Bet,” he mumbles, taking a swig of his beer.

The eerie silence between us confuses him. That is clear. I don’t know how much longer I can hold off before ending his life. Although, as much as I’d like to kill him right here, I can’t be reckless. I need to stick to the plan.

“You good, bro?” he cautiously asks, stepping back.

And I step forward. “Honestly?” I ask, high beams flashing on and off in the near distance. “Not even fucking close,” I spit out, shoving him hard, his back slamming against a car with a loud thud. “But I will be.” Winding back my arm, my fist collides with his nose, dropping him to the ground with one blow. Standing over him, I kick him in the face, ensuring he’s knocked out cold. “When your blood is on my hands.”

Jensen comes to a screeching halt beside us, jumping out of the Jeep like a mad man, stomping toward us. We quickly scan the area to ensure we haven’t been seen.

“Grab his legs,” he says, opening the back door. “Let’s fucking do this.”





Eric Spellman is still unconscious while we drag him into the abandoned shed, the place we claimed as ours many years ago. There’s no power here, out deep in the middle of the woods, so the floodlights are our only source of light. Everything is wrapped in plastic. The floors. Even the walls. Except for the wooden chair in the middle of the room.

Binding his limp body to the chair with ropes, anger erupts through me. I backhand him, again, and again, until his eyes flutter open.

A look of intense horror crosses his face as he looks over his surroundings.

“What the fuck,” he slurs, suddenly panicking. “Where am I?” he demands, struggling to break free from the ropes. His horrified eyes meet mine. “What the fuck is this?”

“Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit,” I threaten, pulling out my knife. “You really thought you could get away with it. With putting your filthy fucking hands on her—”

“Who?” he begs, eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights.

“There’s more than one, isn’t there?” Jensen asks, hitting him hard.

Without warning, urine trickles down his ankle, pitter-pattering against the plastic covering on the floor.

I laugh, with no humor intended. “You’re fucking pathetic,” I spit out, jumping forward and pressing the tip of the blade against his throat.

“Please,” he cries out, shaking, tears leaking from his eyes.

“Usually, I enjoy taking my time with my kills,” I sharply breathe, ripping off his mask and glaring straight into his eyes. “But it’s almost midnight, and we intend to make sure that you don’t get one single fucking breath of the New Year.”

Plunging my knife into his stomach, he lets out a low grumble. Twisting the blade inside his flesh, I cut into him further. Adrenaline consumes my entire being the moment I see the defeated look on his face.

Quinn unexpectedly comes to my mind, and I remember how hard she cried to us after telling us what he did to her.

Red. Red. Red.

That’s all I fucking see.

Blood seeps through his white shirt, but it’s not enough. Going into a fit of rage, I continue to stab him. Again, again, and again. Until I completely lose my mind, right on the verge of blacking out.

Dropping my knife to the ground, I push over his chair and straddle him. My fists slam against his face, over and over. Blood splatters everywhere, painting the walls. The sound of his bones crunching doesn’t faze me. Doesn’t make me stop. Even though at this point, he’s unrecognizable.

“Damien,” Jensen repeats, blow after blow. “Damien.”

Yet, I can’t seem to stop.

“He’s dead,” he loudly urges.

Holding up my fist, I lean back, staring down at the mess I’ve made in silence.

Contentment.

“What time is it?” I ask, savoring the sharp pains of my broken knuckles.

“We have time,” he tells me.

“I almost blacked out again.”

He looks down at the lifeless, unidentifiable body beneath me, and nods. “I know.”





Quinn





My eyes flutter open.