Bent, Not Broken (4 page)

He didn’t know the whole truth of what happened, but Zeke had filled him in on a few gaps in his knowledge. Amy’s sealed hospital records had filled in the rest of the blanks of what that monster did to her. No wonder Brenda had been so damned protective and secretive. She’d done everything in her power to make Amy’s life as easy as possible.

Blowing out a breath, he looked across the parking lot. Bruce was drinking in his local bar, loving the attention. He wondered what the residents of the town he lived in would think of the man they drank with if they knew he’d abused and raped his little girl.

“Are you handling this okay? You’re not sounding… right?”

Joker laughed. “Nothing about this situation is right, Demon. This fucking bastard hurt my woman. He made her scared of men, of me.” He stopped. No one but Demon could get him to spill the truth. Amy was his woman, and he’d always considered her his. The love he had for her was never going to go away. It wasn’t just love, it was outright obsession. She was a submissive at heart, a broken submissive. With the right care, he could bring her out of her shell, but she was so damned scared because of what that fucking evil bastard had done to her.

Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes.

“I’ve got to go, Demon.”

“Do you need support there? This is not something you need to do alone.”

“This is what I
need
to do alone. I’ve spent a great deal of time imagining this moment. I’m prepared, and I’m ready. The evil fucking bastard is going to die.”

Demon sighed. “Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Joker closed the call to see a text from Amy.

She missed him.
His
woman missed him.

Joker:
How’s everything going with Dad?

Amy:
It’s not good. He’s sad. Will you come by at some point? I’d really like to talk to you. I miss talking to you.

He hesitated. Amy’s texts always made him smile. She hated the small text talk and when they were growing up he’d sit in his room texting her in short talk. She’d get so angry that she would storm into his room, shouting at him.

Joker:
I’ll be there Sunday.

Once he sent the message, he sent a text to his father letting him know he was going to be stopping by on Sunday for dinner. He missed spending time with Amy. The sluts he slept with now were his way of trying to forget her. Amy couldn’t be what he wanted. Not yet.

Doubts filled his mind. Given the right amount of care and love, Amy could be exactly what he wanted and needed. It was almost too good to be true for him. His anger raged inside him as he watched Bruce leave the bar, laughing.

Joker couldn’t hear what was being said, and he didn’t care about it. Putting his car into drive, he followed the fucker down a quiet road. In a couple of minutes, Bruce would cut down a darkened alley that would give Joker the perfect opportunity to grab him.

He bided his time as Bruce stopped against a wall to take a piss. It wouldn’t be long until he didn’t have a cock to piss with. Pulling the car against the curb, Joker climbed out. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Joker followed close enough behind the bastard who was going to experience some pain. No, not some pain, a lot of agony. A shit load of pain.

Rounding the alley, Joker grabbed Bruce from behind, slamming against the cement wall.

“What the fuck?” Bruce said, turning around to face him.

“Go on, Bruce, hit me. Let me see how you fare with hitting a real fucking man instead of terrorizing little girls.” Joker got right up in his face, almost begging for the bastard to take a shot, any shot that would give Joker a chance to hurt him.

“Who the hell are you? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bruce had paled though.

“You don’t know me, but I know a lot about you. We’ve got a mutual acquaintance: Brenda, your ex-wife.” What little color Bruce had disappeared at the mention of his ex-wife.

“I’ve stayed away. I told her I would.”

“You see, Bruce, I’ve got a problem. Amy’s my woman, and you hurt her. You took something away from her that she’ll never get back, and now it’s time for you to pay the price.” Wrapping his fingers around Bruce’s neck, Joker fought the temptation to end him now. “And I’m going to make sure you beg for death long before I deliver it.”

J
oker dragged an
unconscious Bruce by the arm, tossed his ass on the floor of the abandoned warehouse owned by The Soldiers, and stared at his body. The fucker was still breathing for now, and the energy inside of Joker to end his life now ran him hard. But he had been planning this for a long fucking time, and would make the fucker beg for mercy before he was finished with him. He spit in Bruce direction then turned and faced the metal table pressed against the wall. There was a chair and rope beside the table and on top of the scarred, rusted-out metal was an array of things that would bring Joker a hell of a lot of pleasure.

After he picked Bruce up off the floor and tied him to the chair, he moved back and pulled a joint out of his cut. He didn’t need to be high or drunk for this, but a little weed sounded good before the party got started. For about five minutes he waited for the motherfucker to wake up, and when his impatience got the better of him, he walked over to the sink. After filling up the bucket with cold water, he turned and stared at Bruce. Leaning against the sink, he inhaled his joint, took it out from between his lips, and exhaled. The smoke billowed out in front of him in a hazy white cloud, and when it dissipated he moved the joint to the counter, set it on the edge, and picked up the bucket.

He threw it on the bastard; he loved it when Bruce sputtered awake and started coughing as he inhaled some of the water. When Bruce caught sight of Joker, he started struggling against his bindings, but there was no fucking way was he getting out of the knots Joker had tied. He watched Bruce struggle and scream out, and then amusement filled Joker.

“You sorry piece of shit. We are out in the middle of nowhere.” After he had knocked Bruce the fuck out, he’d driven an hour out of town to this secluded spot. “Ain’t no one hearing your soon-to-be dead ass.”

The rapist sputtered out pleas that he was a changed man, but Joker blocked everything else out. He took a step back, took off his cut and T-shirt, and grinned over at the tools on display. He’d be using many of them on this asshole and enjoying every second of it. He picked up his joint again, inhaled from it, and blew the smoke out softly until a cloud covered his vision. It dispersed, and he grabbed a pair of brass knuckles from the tray, slipped them on, and moved back to Bruce.

“I didn’t mean to do anything to Amy. She’s my daughter and I love her—”

Joker didn’t let him finish; he cracked him in the side of the face with the knuckles. “You don’t talk about her, think about her, or fucking say her name. She is no one to you anymore and least of all your fucking daughter.” He hit Bruce again until blood sprayed out of his nose and mouth. The rancid shit got on Joker’s chest, but he didn’t care. He wanted blood running down his chest, wanted it covering the ground, and draining the life right out of this rapist pedophile.

“Please, stop,” the man sputtered out. Blood dripped out of his nose and mouth and fell onto his chest and the ground. His shirt was already soaking in the shit, but it didn’t matter, because he’d be deader than a damn doornail soon enough.

Joker swung out again without responding and connected the brass knuckles with Bruce’s face again. He felt power move through him when Bruce’s nose cracked. The rapist howled in pain and tried to get up, but all he accomplished was falling to the side, still tied up like a hog. Something inside of Joker broke, and he reared his leg back and kicked Bruce hard enough that the chair and Bruce’s entire body skidded to the other side of the room. He stalked forward, but not before he grabbed a blade from the tray. Yeah, he had wanted to prolong this, but this evil feeling inside of him rose up, demanding that he finish it. Amy deserved peace, and he knew she’d get it once this waste of space was finished.

Bruce howled out in pain, struggled against his bonds, but then started to slowly still as Joker moved forward. He hauled Bruce up, took the knife and cut Bruce free, and then immediately strung him up on the meat hook that he’d rigged up for this special occasion. Blood continuously flowed, and a small pool settled on the floor beneath him.

“Amy kept saying stop, didn’t she?” He hit Bruce again, and again, and once more until the prick as now hanging on to the ropes that bound him. “But you are one sick motherfucker, and couldn’t, stop could you? You wanted to see how far you could push her.” He took the knife and dragged it across the asshole’s cheek, watching as the skin opened up.

“But you didn’t stop for her, and I bet you didn’t know someone would come calling all these years later, ready to extract revenge in her name.” Joker stopped talking and shook his head. He inhaled deeply for a moment, trying to get the image of Amy, scared and crying, out of his head. The rage that came over him stole his breath away, stole his very fucking sanity. He had said he didn’t need liquor, but seeing a crying Amy in his head almost did him in. He turned and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the counter, popped the cap, and took a long drink from it.

“No, you’re not passing out yet, fucker,” Joker said through his teeth. He took one more drink and put the bottle down. “I wanted to make this last, but I better end this now before you pass out again and can’t feel how much I make you hurt.” He grabbed a serrated knife, ran his finger over the blade, and walked over to the man who had hurt the woman Joker loved. He grabbed Bruce’s chin, turned his beaten face up so he was forced to look at Joker, and growled out low. He felt feral, felt like he was going to snap even further until he couldn’t control himself enough to enjoy this.

Joker took the blade and ran it along each side of the asshole’s face, watched the blood pool and slip down his flesh. He would be dead soon, and then he’d focus on making Amy his.

“You made my woman afraid of being with me.” Joker stabbed Bruce in the gut. “Your death will make her rest easier, breathe at night, and not flinch and push me away when I want to comfort her.” He felt rage burning brightly inside of him. Joker moved the blade up, opening up Bruce’s stomach, and taking the blade out to press it to his neck.

The blood dripped off of the blade and landed on his chest. He stared into Bruce’s eyes, saw them widen when Joker pressed the blade into his flesh, and then he bared his teeth at the asshole. Joker continued to move the blade slowly across his throat, heard the gurgle of Bruce choking on his own blood, and looked down to see the bright red blood start to spurt out of his jugular.

He took a step back, the knife he held dripping the red, viscous fluid onto the ground, and this warmth and release filled him. He stared at Bruce, watched the life fade from him, and knew that this was what true vengeance felt like.

Amy sat at
the kitchen table, across from David, and thought about how many times she had done this with her mom, her step-father, and Reese back in the day. The silence between them right now wasn’t uncomfortable, and in fact, she saw the smile on David’s face and knew he was thinking about her mother.

“Your mom used to make the best sweet rice I have ever had.” He stared at her and smiled wider. “Do you remember the first time she made it; you and Reese were hesitant to taste it because you said it looked slimy?”

She started chuckling and nodded. “Yeah, but Reese is actually the one who got me to try it. It was the best.”

David nodded. “Yeah, your mom could cook like no other.”

The room was silent again, and she thought about Reese. “David, how is he doing anyway? I mean I’ve spoken to him, but how is he really doing?”

David didn’t speak right away, but instead picked up the sandwich she had made for him and took a bite. He chewed for a moment, swallowed, and then he took a sip of water. He set his water down as he looked at her again. “Reese has changed a lot since he was a teenager. The few times I’ve seen him in the last few years he was a harder man, more dangerous even.”