The Submissive Assassin (BxB)

Chapter 57 - I Can't Tell You

Tyler couldn't bare to look any longer, already being held by Dante with her arms behind her back. Jules' state was awful; he had taken a severe beating from Reno's bat, only to be pounded on the back and the chest with Bronsted's brass knuckles. However, he hadn't faltered, blood along the corners of his jaw, leaking onto his chest, open wounds all across his stomach and his back. His wrists had completely dislocated that his fingers had started to turn purple and green, identical to the bruises that had already started to form.

He was barely even awake, his breathing terribly shallow that it sounded as if he would faint. The only reason Tyler had to be held was because she had ran in front of Bronsted and almost had the impact of brass knuckles directly on her nose, stopping at the last second.

"He's going to die!" she had yelled, pointing to his swollen body and all the blood that was trickling onto the floor. "You promised you wouldn't kill him." Bronsted, who had been zoned into his punches, harshly gripped her by the collar and shoved her backwards into the waiting arms of Dante, who restrained her with his hands. That didn't stop her from screeching, "You fucking promised! Look at him, he's already dying!"

Bronsted was a boxer, born and raised as one, talented at that. Hence he lifted his fists at each sides of his head as protection while he examined which spot he would pounce next. As he prepared his next hit, he had bellowed, "He can stop it if he wants to by telling us where Nathan is." Then, his fist had connected with the side of his abdomen, straight into his left kidney, and Jules' body contorted again as he gushed out a long exhale. Only his legs quivered since he could no longer mice his fingers and the sight made Tyler cry desperately for it to stop.

By the time Bronsted had grown tired and no longer wanted to continue, Jules was barely even moving, his breathing quiet and barely even making his chest rise. If it hadn't been for the pulse Bronsted had to check, they would have assumed him to be dead. "Guess it's Molly's turn," he whispered as he breathed heavily, wiping the end of his forehead from the sweat. "This guy's tough."

"He'll definitely die if Molly goes," Walker commented with a snicker.

"Dante." Tyler eyed him over her shoulder, the tears overwhelming her eyes as she begged for her older brother to agree with her. "It's enough," she whispered in a shaky breath, not wanting to witness anymore of these atrocities; Jules did not deserve this. "He doesn't know, let him go."

Dante glanced towards Jules, his body enveloppes in injuries and wounds that would probably be fatal if he didn't get medical attention anytime soon. It also caused his chest to feel tight since he knew Jules was not a bad bloke, instead got involved with the wrong people and ended up in a dangerous gang. However, there was no empathy when matters grew this serious. He bit his bottom lip, seeing as Molly began to open his bag and reveal the fearing tools he had brought, even the nitrile gloves that he pulled on his fingers and stretched them out to make sure they fit.

When the other brothers stared at him with widened eyes, a bit frightened by how diligent he was as he laid each of his tools side by side on a long silver platter, he shrugged his shoulders and mumbled, "You all have seen this countless times, why do you act surprise every time?"

Reno folded his arms. "You enjoy doing this...it's weird."

"How is it any different than you beating them with a bat?"

"At least I don't poke people's eyeballs out for fun," Reno retorted with a frown. He considered himself much different than his younger brother to which he was certain could be categorized as a psychopath.

"Doesn't burn them either," Walker defended Reno.

Molly shrugged his shoulders, chuckling in embarrassment. "We all have different preferences."