“You think Sandra would throw me under the bus for a damn cat?”
A cold smirk crept across Tommy’s face as he exchanged a glance with his lackeys.
“Kill that filthy beast. I’ll take full responsibility.”
Their crazed laughter echoed off the walls as several boots came down hard on my body. My face was smashed into the floor, pressed and twisted under their soles until I could barely recognize myself. I watched helplessly, eyes wide with horror, as Tommy raised his foot. And just like that—Oliver was gone.
“NOOO!”
My scream ripped through the room, raw and broken, as I watched my cat’s fragile body go limp. Tommy turned toward me, his face warped with venomous satisfaction.
“Little pest handled. Now it’s time for the bigger one.”
Without another word, he yanked off his belt and began lashing it across my face. Again and again, each strike landed with a brutal crack, his voice gleeful as he counted.
“One! Two! Three! Hahaha, look at him! His face is swelling up like a pig’s head!”
“Let me add in my ‘Pretty Boy Punches,” one of the cronies joked, landing slap after slap.