Free Demyan & Ana by Bethany-Kris Page A

it,” Cavan said, nearly smirking.
    Anger flared in Demyan, but he beat back the urge to show it.
    Cavan didn’t relent. “Teased me for weeks like a good little whore, so what she got was exactly what she deserved after her show with your friend here.”
    Koldan took a step forward, his hand tightening around the butt of his handgun. “You cocksucking—”
    “Don’t,” Demyan stated, flicking Koldan a look. “He’s only running his mouth to shorten his time. The more he pisses me off, the quicker he thinks he’s going to die. Isn’t that right, Cavan?”
    “Maybe, but that doesn’t make what I said about your bitch of a sister any less true.”
    Demyan’s jaw clenched, his teeth aching. “You know, I considered telling my father what you did to Ana so he could come along tonight. Anton Avdonin is pretty damn infamous in the business of killing. Liars have their tongues removed. Thieves lose their hands. Traitors get their bones crushed. I’ve witnessed men beg for someone else to do the deed when he walks into the room.”
    “Your point?” Cavan asked.
    “I’ve never seen what he does to a rapist, let alone his daughter’s. I think it would have been fascinating and terrifying all at once.”
    “Am I supposed to feel lucky it’s you, then?”
    This time, it was Demyan’s turn to smirk. “Oh, no. See, I’m my father’s son through and through. We bleed the same blood. He made me. I’ve picked up his tricks over the years. This will be far from easy for you, that I can guarantee.”
    “And you needed a lackey, why?” Cavan asked, tilting his head in Koldan’s direction.
    “He’s just here for the show.”
    Demyan didn’t blink when Cavan lurched forward to grab the gun he threw away earlier. A muffled pop filled the space before Cavan fell to the floor, holding his hand to his chest and shouting obscenities. Blood seeped from the new bullet wound he sported.
    Koldan smiled. “Sorry, but not really.”
    “You bastard,” Cavan hissed, rolling to his knees.
    “Tell me the names you called my sister when you raped her,” Demyan said, feeling almost emotionless.
    “W-what?”
    “I want to know the names you called my sister when you held her down and took what wasn’t yours to have.”
    “I …” Cavan blinked up at Demyan as he walked across the room slowly. He came to a stop only a foot away from Cavan’s shaking form. “Why?”
    Demyan’s hand lifted, flashing the blade he held. “I’m mighty fucking good with a knife. My hands don’t shake. I never second-guess my cuts. A bit of blood isn’t going to bother me. Your screams wouldn’t, either. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to slice your vocal cords so you won’t bother anyone else in this building with your noise. For every name you called her, I’ll carve a mark into your chest. When I’m done, I’ll cut exactly what you are across your face so your family will know it, too—a rapist.”
    Finally, Demyan got what he wanted the most. Fear danced in Cavan’s wide eyes.
    “Does your uncle know what you do to girls, Cavan?” Demyan asked.
    Cavan wouldn’t answer.
    “The names,” Demyan said. “Give me them.”
    “I don’t think—”
    Demyan kicked out at Cavan, the toe of his boot catching the man under his jaw. Cavan’s head snapped back with a sickening crack, blood spewing. Dark, cold chuckles echoed from Cavan’s bleeding mouth.
    “Whore,” Cavan mumbled, shaking his head as he faced Demyan again. “Slut. Cunt. Bitch. Do you want more, Demyan? Do you want to know how she begged me to stop and how she bled for me, too? Worthless. Trash. Used.”
    Cavan sneered, the bloodiness of his mouth making the sight of him garish. “How about the way she bit her lip so hard when I kissed her, she bled into my mouth and it made me co—”
    Fury rushed through Demyan like poison injected straight into his heart. He kicked Cavan again, harder the second time. It shut the fucker up instantly, but it also knocked him