Cross

19

Roman

The broke edge of the beer bottle is wedged right through his palm, through his skin and bone and into the dark mahogany wood of the bar. Mario is screaming like a little bitch - what the fuck did Winter see in him.

"You don't touch what doesn't belong to you." I snarl in his face as I twirl the top of the bottle. My actions only make him howl louder. Ugly and painful cries sings along with the music. It's so ear shattering that a couple of people have stopped to watch us.

"I'm sorry man, I didn't know she was yours." He weeps, "she didn't have a ring on so I thought-"

"You thought wrong and now you'll lose your hand because of it." The fucking hand that slip onto her ass - my fucking ass. I'm pissed at Winter too because she wanted him to touch her. The twirl of her hair and the teasing look she gave him is ingrain in my fucking head. A look that should only be for me.

I rip the axe from the wood and suddenly, the smell of urine fills my club. He fucking pissed him self.

"Please." He begs as his jeans turn a darker shade of blue, fucking pussy, "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

I test the blade on his wrist where I plan to sever his hand. I push the edge into his skin enough to draw blood, making sure to keep my glare pinned on him.

"Roman stop it!" Winter screams through the music. She appears in front of me, her tiny hands wrapping around my arm. She tugs and there's tears in her eyes. She pleads desperately, "He didn't do anything, let him go."

My jaw twitches from displeasure and jealousy that swallows me like quicksand.

"If I were you," I warn with crooked smile, one that I flash to my enemies before I end their lives. Her eyes widening in fright because I think she remembers that look. "I'd get away or else blood is going to stain that pretty pink dress of yours."

The dress I'm going to rip off her. It's a fucking sin and it makes my cock hard.

"Stop it Roman!"

I glare at her long and hard before slamming the axe into Mario's wrist. He screams so fucking loud that it drowns out the music playing in the club. The few people that have stopped to watch us, gasps and back away. These people know they can't do anything to help poor Mario.

This is Cartel territory - people lose limbs everyday. Blood is spill on the clock and dead bodies go out with the trash in the morning.

Fuck, I've missed coming to the clubs and chopping off body parts. It's a good stress reliever.

Mario slides down the side of the bar, clutching his forearm and sits in his own urine. Pathetic. His hand is still embedded into wood, spilling blood all over my expensive interior. I'm going to have to charge him for that.

When my focus returns to Winter, her face is pale under the glow of the neon flood lights. She looks at me, terrified, so fucking terrified that it makes me hard for her. I drop the axe and take her forearm in a vice grip.

"Clean this up," I give the order and drag Winter towards the back of the building.

"Roman," she protests as I pull her along. The crowd splits like the Red Sea for us. "Let me go, you're getting blood on me."

I ignore her. There's already tiny speckles of red painting the side of her face and a little on the hem of her dress. Some more won't kill her but I might.

I lead Winter through a staff only corridor and towards the elevator at the back of the building. There's three levels to this building. The basement where I conduct business with foreign clients, the ground floor is the main club and the top is my office. The basement and top floor queries a code to get inside.