IT WAS TIME. My insides were stretched thin. My fury billowed inside me. It had become my friend again. I turn onto the drive of the remote cabin, the tires rolling against the gravel quietly. I climb out of the car and nod at my men who went to the back to circle the grounds while I crept inside.

This was his secret place. Outside, he was the epitome of classic American boy with charming smiles and squeaky clean background. No one knew how deep his depravity runs behind close doors and I'd seen the way he looked at her in the golf club, practically felt the sick, sadistic desire pouring from him. And not killing him right then and there had been a feat in itself. As I approached the door, I heard the slap first, followed by muffled cries. I turn the knob quietly and walk in, stopping just inside the small living room. He was in the bed straddling a woman, his arms stretched above holding her wrists together in a tight grip.

"You like that, huh?" he growled and backhanded her once again before thrusting back inside her.

"Fuck, you felt good." He kept going and the woman whimpered but lay there in surrender. He had defeated her, broken her.

He pause, and reach over the bedside table and grab the tray before leaning down to sniff the white powder. He sigh in satisfaction, before he went back to business, very much oblivious to another presence in the room.

Her eyes met mine over his shoulder and I remember her. Freya. I think. She was pale as a ghost; fresh tears fell over the dried ones. A whimper left her again, but his hand slammed over her throat once again.

"Oh shit. Yes, Ayla. Squeeze me baby," he moaned and I held out my hand, and Vince steps forward to hand me the bat.

He didn't hear me approaching, he couldn't have. He's too busy feeding his depravities to notice anything but his dick as he rape the helpless woman. I raise the bat, and Freya's eyes widen in horror and I only give her a brief smile before smashing the bat against the side of Collins face. I wasn't surprised when the poor girl started to scream, still in his hold. His body pinned her against the bed as he slumped. He groaned in pain, hands clutching his bloody head as he tries to move but her frantic hands push him off and he fell to the ground.

Still screaming, she collapsed to the ground and scooted against the wall until she found the farthest corner and curled into a fetal position. She was sobbing, hysterical, as more screams ripped from her throat. I watch him as he struggle on the floor, before finally lifting his head to look at me. His eyes widen, confused. "What the—Kade?"

Sighing, I simply walked over to the empty chair and sat. "You do this often?"

He look dumbfounded. "W-What?"

"You called her Ayla. I bet you plan to rape her too seeing as you called out her name while forcing yourself on another woman."

The motherfucker had the nerve to glare at me.

"Look, I don't know how you find this place but this is none of your business. I'll let this slide seeing as we're about to be family. And yes, Ayla is mine and I can call—"

Something in me snapped, and before he can finish his sentence, I stood. Taking the chair I had just been sitting in, I broke it against his face. It collapsed as I hammered the broken pieces into his body and he lay helplessly on the floor, screaming but incapable of doing anything else.

Marching forward, I grabbed a fist full of his hair. I pulled him off the floor before slamming his face repeatedly into the wall before throwing his body to the side. I was tempted to keep going, but surely if I continued I would permanently crushed his entire face. This is not how he's supposed to die after all.

Ignoring the screeching woman behind me, I kneel next to him, before pulling a switchblade out of my sock and held it to his hairline. "You fucking touch a girl of mine and think you could survive?"

"Please. I never—" he wailed.

"Does it feel good seeing her helpless while you pressed her against the car?" I slid the razor across the skin of his hairline.

The images from the CCTV flashes in my mind and I feel the fury surged once again. Looking at his broken form, I still wasn't satisfied. He wasn't writhing in pain and that was unacceptable.

His eyes went wide as he tries to figure out what to say. "I didn't know—"

My hand was quick as a flash when it shot down on his lap, the knife piercing down his groin. His body bend over and he let out a loud scream.

"You thought you can touch her?"

He tried to fight, but I pull up his head and dug the knife hard back to his hairline, exposing his newly torn flesh, as blood streamed down his face and stained the floor below him. He cried and roared in pain like a fucking baby and a smile form in my lips.

"I want to scalp you but I don't want daddy dearest to not recognize your corpse." I held out my hand and Vince stepped in to hand me the syringe.

"P-please. I beg you," he began trashing when I reach out and grab his arm.

"Since you like this thing so much, consider this a parting gift." I found his vein and push all the contents, all the while looking at his frantic eyes.

It took about thirty minutes. His chest rises, gasping for air and his eyes rolled back, before slowly, finally taking his last breath. Fixing my shirt, I stood and turn to face my men.

"Change of plan. Just take a photo and leave the body." I ordered. Since no one knew about this place, he can rot in here for all I care.

Glancing over the woman rocking back and forth as she hugs her knees, her shell shock eyes fixed on Collins lifeless body. Crouching down to her, I say, "I expect you to be on the plane and out of this state within the next three hours. You'll forget whatever the fuck happen here. You of all people know just how much he deserves it."

She remained silent, just rocking and her eyes downward as she bit her fingers. I sighed. "Vince."

"Freya Marie Anderson, 997-00-3874, 1605 Magnolia Road," Vince said, making sure she was aware that we not only knew her name, but her social security number and address. I know full well I was being a dick, especially after what happened to her, but I want to make sure no loose ends will come bite me in the ass in the future.

Her head snapped forward. Her eyes filled with fear and terror as she looks at Collins' before shifting her gaze back to me. This time, I saw the resignation in her eyes. "Thank you." She spoke quietly.

I nodded and stood. "Get her clean up and drop her off to the nearest airport." I directed before leaving and heading to the car. I hadn't seen my butterfly for over two days and my hands were starting to twitch.

After I met her in their house that night, I feel restless and it's starting to piss me off. When she stood there with her eyes closed, still crying, those long tears rolling down her cheeks as she waited for my reply. Why the fuck do they make me feel bad for her? I don't feel bad—I don't even feel pity—I can't afford to feel a damn thing right now. And yet, she's trying to unarmed me. I hate her for shaking my resolve with those three fucking words. I despise her for sharing the same blood with people whom I planned to bury. But I want her just as much and I can't quite rectify these feelings. Damn it.