My Wife Took My Manhood, So I Took Her Finger

Jesse stood before a sheer cliff, the wind whistling past his ears as he gazed down into the dark abyss.

His face drained of color, his body trembling violently as terror consumed him.

Tears streaked down his face as Jesse screamed, "Rory, save me!"

Rory froze, her eyes locked onto the scene. For a heartbeat, it felt like the world might implode, the pressure building in her head until she thought she might shatter.

Then, in a blur of panic, she unbuckled her seatbelt and lunged at me, her hands grabbing my neck with an iron grip.

"Cyrus, have you lost your mind?" Rory shouted, voice thick with fury. "Let him down, right now!"

The icy calm that typically resided in her eyes had vanished, replaced by an anger impossible to ignore. The pressure of her grip only grew stronger.

This was the third time I'd seen her lose control.

The first was when I watched my parents die in a car accident, consumed by flames before my eyes.

I had run toward them in blind panic, and Rory had yanked me back with all her strength, shouting frantically, "Cyrus, calm down! If you run forward now, it's a death trap. If anything happens to you, what am I supposed to do?"

She had held me tight, terrified I'd throw myself into the fire.

Over and over, she whispered in my ear, "Cyrus, we will have a new home. You, me… and our baby."

The second time was when I destroyed Jesse, the one who had dared to provoke me.

She had cradled his bleeding body in her arms, shouting at me with raw, wild fury, "Cyrus, you're a damn lunatic! If anything happens to Jesse, I will never forgive you!"

And the third time… was today.

Only the second time she had lost control over another man.

Clear as day, she truly loved him.

"Cyrus! Don't you dare play dumb! Tell your people to put him down!"

Her eyes were bloodshot, and beneath her rage was pure, explosive fury.

Her grip crushed my breath, yet I felt no fear.

Far from it, actually.

I just laughed maniacally.

"You haven't made your choice yet," I said through clenched teeth. "How could I possibly let him go?"

She faltered, fingers trembling slightly around my neck.

Rory knew I meant it.

Jesse's life rested entirely on her decision.

"You're insane… a complete lunatic!" she shouted.

Her words hung in the air, but she could not decide.

Slowly, she released her grip, swinging the car door open, intent on running to save him.

And that's when I noticed her left hand, the one missing its pinky.

A bitter, mocking laugh escaped my throat.

"Rory…" I murmured.

"What are you trying to—" she shouted back.

But before she could finish, a heart-wrenching, guttural sob tore from her throat. Her face contorted in agony, and I couldn't stop a small, cruel laugh from slipping past my lips.

My hands, though, moved deliberately.

The knife I'd inserted into her uterus stayed steady in my grip.

"Rory," I said coldly, "you took away my right to be a father. How can you expect to have your own child?"

Ever since the day I'd severed her pinky, I had intended to do this.

Only she had anticipated me and dodged it.

Sweat poured down her face. Color drained completely.

Her reddened eyes locked on me, trying to endure the pain.

Through gritted teeth, she said, "Is this what you wanted? If it is, then you can let Jesse go, right?"

Her words froze me for a moment.

My gaze flicked involuntarily to her bleeding womb. I expected her to think of herself first, to demand I take her to a hospital.

But no, I was wrong.

The first thing she thought of was still that son-of-a-bitch.

"Ahhh! Rory, help! Help me!"

Jesse's terrified screams echoed from outside the car.

Rory didn't spare me a glance.

She gritted her teeth, and with a groan, she swung open the car door. Toward Jesse at the cliff's edge, she ran, stumbling forward with veins bulging, her heart pounding in her chest.