“You’ll let my wife go,” Henry said.

With a single step forward, I snatched the cane up. He staggered but caught himself and leaned against the wall. Good enough. I inspected it. Of course, he’d cleaned Tex’s blood off of it. Good thing, I don’t think I could have held back if I’d seen it.

His mouth opened to spew something I had no time to hear. Before so much as a syllable could be uttered, I whipped the cane around, and it smacked against his cheek.

I tisked. It wasn’t the exact same. Henry crumbled down to the ground, groaning in pain.

“Stand up.”

The old man wheezed as blood dripped down his cheek. His eyes were unfocused as he continued to lie on the ground.

“I said get up.”

Henry attempted to get up twice, his leg giving out on him each time. I watched, unmoving. There was so much I wanted to do to him. I could easily spend weeks torturing him, bringing him nothing but suffering and it would still be only a drop of the anguish he’d caused Tex.

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with,” Henry spat.

“If I was going to kill you, we’d be somewhere I could have fun.” I stepped closer to him. He was more than likely taller than me in his prime. However, with his hunched-over posture as he fought to stand up, I dwarfed him. “This is personal.”

His eyes flicked around me, and I brought the cane back down. It cut through the air, making a soft whistling sound. The hardwood against flesh echoed around us. Henry crashed to the ground, scrapping the other side of his face.

“Uh, fuck.”

I grabbed a fistful of his hair and held his head up, inspecting it. It mirrored the cut I’d found on Tex’s face perfectly. Killing him would anger Tex. Although I knew Henry Caster deserved it, I couldn’t.

Henry groaned as I helped him up, too dazed to pull away. I handed his cane back. His fingers shook as he took it away from me and leaned heavily on it.

He blinked rapidly as he stared at me. “What makes this personal?”

I tapped his cheek, pressing against the wounds there. He winced. I wiped his blood from my fingers onto his checkered button-up.

“Know any time you hurt him, I will return the favor to you.”

“Who?” Henry asked. His head snapped up before I could speak. “Tex? What does this have to do with my son?”

“He’s mine.”

I could practically see the wheels turning in his head as my words settled in his mind. A look of distraught morphed into one of anger. His face reddened as he bared his teeth at me.

“Being with you, he’s going to end up just like Brycen Grennan.” Henry shook his head. “That boy—”

I took a step closer, and his mouth snapped shut. “Respect him, or I’ll make it so he will never have to hear disrespect come out of your mouth again.” Cutting out his tongue wouldn’t kill him.