Heather stands staring at him, her eyes a ferocious glare.
“Because you know I’m going to kill you or because you're sorry?”
He shrugs his shoulders and is far more brave than he should be.
“If I had gotten to have you, I think it would’ve been worth it. Dying for nothing, though? Yeah, I regret that. I should’ve had your mother hold you down. Another regret.”
Knox, Carter, and I share a glance, all three of us wanting to kill this asshole. We turn our attention to Heather, watching her to be sure she’s okay. He tries to break her with his words, but she walks over to the bag and exchanges the prod for the knife Psycho gave her, and then puts it back as she has a conversation with herself.
“Scissors.” She says as she grabs them before walking back over to him.
“My arms hurt.” Jedediah complains, but she doesn’t even glance at him.
Heather rips John Steve's robe wide open, and while he was mouthy not so long ago, now he changes his tune as he stares at the red scissors in her hand. I move to one side of him and Carter moves to the other. We grip his shoulders knowing he’s going to move. If she does what I think she’s going to do, he won’t be able to control it.
My brothers and I instinctively cover our dicks with our free hands as she punctures his ball sack with the tip of the scissors, and John Steve screams bloody murder. First a clear yellowish fluid leaks out before blood pours from the now open wound.
“That’s fucking gross.” I groan as Heather pulls the scissors out and stabs him repeatedly. In the stomach, then the chest, and the other testicle.
This woman is gorgeous, vicious, a little crazy, and fucking perfect.
Chapter Forty-Eight
THE HEATHEN
Ikick my mother in the stomach when her lifeless body hasn’t moved in a while. No response. I glance at Knox and shrug my shoulders.
“She’s dead. Too bad she won’t be here to see her Prophet die.”
Jedediah shakes his head at me, looking a little green around the gills.
“This is who you want to be? A monster?” He asks, and I take a moment before responding.
“The monster taking your life is you. Because you created me. Every time you touched me. Every time you held me down and forced yourself inside my body. Every time you beat me. When you passed me around to others—all of those moments led to this. When you are dead I will only have one regret. That I didn’t kill you sooner.”
He wants to appear strong and unafraid, but his trembling body gives him away.
“You’re going to Hell. God will not forgive you for this. I will see to it that you burn for eternity.”
I stare at Carter who watches me affectionately, his eyes filled with love even when I show him this side of me. All three of my men accept me for who I am.
“I’m almost ready for the hammer and nails, but I’ll need the step stool.”
He nods and gets what I need as I stare at the man who I share DNA with. He should’ve loved and protected me but hurt me more than a stranger ever would.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
Glancing up at the ceiling he cries out.
“Why have you forsaken me and left me with this ungodly creature? You could stop this, Father.”
I tilt my head at him. All these years I’m still trying to figure him out.
“Are you the Prophet now or the son of God? I’m having a little trouble keeping up.”
He yanks at the chains holding his wrists in place and sighs audibly.
“I am both. The Prophet and the son of God.”