JAXON
FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
“You crazy bastard!”
His screams give me nothing but pleasure as he grips my left shoulder. I see the fear and shock in his eyes, and it’s so delicious, I almost lick my lips.
Not so bold now, is he?
I don’t let go. I can’t. I do not f*****g want to.
Still, it’s not enough.
My head and whatever remains of my heart are filled with the desire to watch him bleed out, clinging on for his dear life like mom did.
Did she even have the time to think of us before the rope strangled and sniffed the life out of her?
I guess not. So I shouldn’t give him the luxury of time either.
“I’ll f*****g kill you!” He spits on my face, but I don’t bother to wipe it off.
Even till death, he remains annoying. I’ll give him that. One hand squeezes my shoulder and the o
