Page 237 of The Carnage We Keep

“Bella—”

She shakes her head and then forces her eyes open with a weak smile.

"I just..." Her voice crumbles to dust again before she forces that small smile back as her eyes swivel to mine. "I might have some feedback, though? For our next date?”

I groan, smiling despite myself.

“Of course you do, you little fucking nightmare,” I chuckle before my voice cracks and crumbles into raspy chokes.

"Good, good. You're both awake."

The voice comes from behind us. With another brittle groan of pain, I roll back onto my left side. I wince as the hook through my flesh pulls to the side, sending a fresh wave of blood drip-dripping into the vat below.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

Footsteps on the suspended metal walkway.

My eyes swivel, and my jaw clenches when I see the man I’ve been trying to kill for almost a year calmly walking toward us.

Kasper Sorel is relatively tall, and thin almost to the point of skeletal. Coal-black eyes beneath a heavy brow and dark, thinning hair glint in the dim industrial lighting. His leathery, gaunt face stretches into a toothy smile as he approaches, flanked by four men with guns.

He’s dressed in an Italian white linen suit, his hands clasped behind his back as he stops a couple of feet away, leering down at us.

“I must say,” he murmurs in an almost "southern gentleman" accent—close to Texan, but slightly off. “I’ve been greatly looking forward to meeting you both." He tilts his head. “After all, here I am thinking I’m untouchable, and then there you are, carving up my empire like a couple of third-rate butchers.”

His right eye twitches as his gaze slides from me to Bella, then back to me.

“I’m guessing based on your relative sizes that I can assume you’re the one who killed my dear friend Viktor with a twenty-pound hammer.”

“How about you cut me loose and hand me another one, and we'll see, motherfucker,” I growl through gritted teeth.

Sorel chuckles, running his fingertips over his greased-back, thinning hair and gesturing at the hooks, the raw, flayed carcasses, and tank below us. “Given that you two are such butchers, I thought this would be an appropriate setting for your demise.” He smiles. “Irony is such a cruel mistress, wouldn't you agree?”

He nods at his men. Instantly, two of them march over to me, grabbing under my arms and yanking me to unsteady feet. The pain is so intense that the whole world turns white around me, the sound of my agonized, inhuman roar jarring against the metallic clank of the chains leading from the hook up into the rafters.

A scream forces my eyes back open, and I whirl to see the other two pulling Bella to her feet as well.

“Don’t fucking touch her!!” I roar in a rage, charging at them.

But one of the men near me just chuckles and grabs the chain. He yanks hard, and my vision blacks out again as raw pain explodes through my shoulder, instantly sending me to my knees.

My arms and legs are shaking from all the adrenaline coursing through my veins as they yank me to my feet again.

My gaze locks with Bella’s, my jaw clenching when I see the fear in her eyes.

Bella doesn’t get scared. She just doesn't.

Seeing real, primal terror sparking behind her eyes rips at my heart.

“Do you like my schoolroom?” Sorel smiles darkly. “My finishing school, if you will?”

He clasps his hands behind his back.

“One of my favorite parts of my job is…breaking a young lady when she needs to be broken. They almost always do break, even the strong ones,” he chuckles. “Occasionally, of course, you get an ornery type. A girl who’s been told too often she can do any man’s job she wants. A girl who doesn’t respect the authority of man’s dominion over woman.”

Rage curdles in my fucking veins.

I hate men like this.