Stain (Stain #1)(67)

Her eyes don’t open. She doesn’t wake up. But I know she knows I’m here. I can feel it, down to my bones. The nurse comes in five minutes later, and it takes everything I have in me to drag myself away from her bedside. Before I do, I take her in, memorize every single bruise and swollen part of her body. I imagine the sort of agony she went through, imagine the terror she felt when he held her down, the tears she cried when he violated her body. I take it all in and lock it away. Reference for later.

When I leave her side, it’s with the acid fuel of vengeance coursing through my veins.

I’ve got Willkie and Wynn both texting me. The former wants to know where the hell I am, and the latter is asking questions she should already have answers to. But neither of them are my priority. I’ve got a plan, a one-track mind, and the cop is in my tunnel vision. I won’t focus on anything else until I do what I need to. I peel out of the hospital parking lot, making my way to their house, and park my truck a few blocks away. They have a shed out in the back of their house. I make myself comfortable. No food. Just a bottle of water I use to keep hydrated. An entire day passes, night falls, and I wait until the very last possible second before I come out of the shed with my sledgehammer dangling at my side and other tools in my jean pockets. Heading to the electric box cover hanging on the back panel wall of the house and digging into my pocket, I use the pliers in my hand to break through the lock before slipping them back inside my back pocket. I give it a brief once-over. Opening the box, I pull at all the wires until I’m sure I’ve got them all. There won’t be any light when I get inside. Aylee’s foster mother and sister are at the hospital. I saw them leave a bit ago and they haven’t come back. It doesn’t really matter, because I’m not planning on staying too long. I know the cop is home and he’s all I want anyway.

Jimmying the back door lock isn’t a problem. I’m inside. I should be a little nervous entering the house of a cop, but I’m pretty f*cking calm. I hear footsteps and I duck around the kitchen wall. He’s getting closer...closer…probably coming to check on the circuit box. I wait for him, my grip around my sledgehammer strong and tight. He walks past me and I come out behind him swinging, aiming for the back of his right knee. He falls down with a roar and it’s a sound I plan on making last.

“People like you shouldn’t be allowed to exist,” I utter quietly while pulling my phone out from the other back pocket. A quick search in my apps and I find what I’m looking for. The kitchen is suddenly flooding with pure, bright white light from the flashlight app. I set my phone down on the kitchen table before returning my attention to Tim. “You think you can hurt innocent people, children, and just get away with it? And you probably did for a while. This whole time you probably thought you f*cked with Aylee’s mind so much that she would never tell anyone about what you did.” The * starts to move. He’s trying to crawl away. But I’m not close to being done with him yet. I raise the hammer and slam it down with full force on his kneecap, more than likely shattering the bones from the way he screams. “But you underestimated her, Timmy Boy. She told me everything.” I watch him fall back onto the tile floor, taking in gasping breaths, his face scrunching up in pain.

“Wha…what the f*ck…do you…want?” I can barely make out the hiccupping words, but I get the gist of it.

“I want you to know that you’re not getting out of here alive. If you do, you’re gonna wish you were dead.” I approach him, and he still has a voice to scream when I kick at his feet, spreading them in opposite directions. I bring the hammer between his legs, right up against his dick and nut sac, and I press down with all my might. “I want you to feel every single bit of pain she felt, you f*cking bastard.”

I go for his arms and hands next. Crushing elbows joints and all ten beefy fingers like I’m tenderizing meat.

He can’t move now. Sure, he’s twitching, flopping around like a fish out of water, but he’s not going anywhere. A close look at his limbs shows just how badly they’re all mangled, and shattered to pieces. There’s only screaming, cursing, and blubbering.

I set the sledgehammer against the kitchen counter and pull out my jaw pliers. Dropping down to my haunches in front of Tim’s body, I flip them in the air and catch them with a grin. “You know, while I was waiting for it to get dark, I watched some videos online on how to castrate animals. Now I have to tell you, I’m a pretty good study, but there’s definitely a chance I’m going to mess up. Not because I don’t know what I’m doing, but because you hurt her.” I remove his pants, tugging them down his legs, and apply the pliers to his balls and crush down while yanking my hand back. I do the same with his limp dick. If I had a say, this is would be the universal punishment for every child molester and rapist in the world.

When I’m done I stand, looking down at his unmoving body, and I get a flashback of my father’s corpse on that bed so long ago, and I feel…nothing. I’m ready to pull my SIG out of my truck and put him out of his misery with a bullet in his head, but I don’t. He’s as good as dead, anyway.

I really doubt he’ll recover from this. I got what I came for. Revenge isn’t as sweet as I thought it would be, but at least this motherf*cker won’t hurt Aylee anymore. And that’s a win I’ll gladly take.

***

The phone rings four times before he picks up. “Hello?” It’s good to hear his voice.