Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
If you had enough of it, either your brain or your body itself just hit the dimmer switch and things receded. The reprieve was never permanent, but when it happened, you were so damned glad, you didn’t care.
Apex had learned this over the last thirty years. When he’d been mourning Callum.
Unfortunately, his current respite was over: He could tell because it was dawning on him that his neck hurt. Kind of silly, really. His face and his upper torso had taken the brunt of the beatings. Then again, his head had been lolling on his shoulder for how long now?
When he went to open his eyes, he was careful not to move much because he didn’t know whether he was alone. No doubt Remis had tucked himself in downstairs so he could get his beauty sleep for the day—
Whrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
What the hell was that sound—oh. The shutters. It must be nightfall.
Back to the eyeball-opening thing. Fantastic, one was so swollen shut, he couldn’t budge it.
“—tonight. No, tomorrow is better. I’m making sure everything is prepared—yes, I know you want to meet as soon as possible, but we need to clean up loose ends—”
Remis’s voice. Like he was on the phone.
“—and do this the right way. I need one more night. I’m sorry. You don’t want complications? Well, I’m making sure we don’t have any of them. They both did work on the security system so it’s best we cut those risks.” Footsteps. Coming closer. “You always told me, patience wins the battle and the war. So let me do what we agreed needed to be done.” The male stopped right in front of him. “Yes. Of course. No, there won’t be anything left. The sun is the best cleanup we have. Yes. Right. Yes, I will. Goodbye.”
Apex was careful to keep breathing slowly, in and out.
“I know you’re awake.”
A moment later, Apex’s head was repositioned and Remis was right there, eye to eye. “I have to say, you’re impressive. Fortunately, your friend Mayhem called your phone—I’m pretty sure you don’t remember giving me your code. It was the only piece of information you did give up. Anyway. I’m just keeping you alive until he arrives—”
“Leave him . . .” Holy fuck, was that his voice? “. . . alone.”
“Sorry, he picked on me first. Isn’t that the way the young say it? And I’m going to finish it.”
“Leave—”
The slap came from the left and there was good follow-through with it, a spool of blood releasing from Apex’s mouth. And hey, now his head was lying on his other shoulder, so all those tense muscles were stretching out. Bonus.
Meanwhile, he just let himself float off on the pain cloud. In the background, he was vaguely aware of Remis posturing and the four brass-knucklers he’d brought with him standing around, like a rugby team getting coached.
Apex was pretty sure he was hit again. A couple of times. Until he was just drooling blood on his fleece. Again.
It was okay. He wasn’t making it out of this alive, and that was all right. He’d been done as of last night anyway. The only thing he was really worried about was Mayhem, and dear God, he hoped like hell that that female didn’t insist on coming with him.
Mostly, he hoped that the Black Dagger Brother Vishous got the feed from this house.
He was going to die in this chair, but if the Brotherhood could just get here in time to save the other two—
Wait, there was one more thing he had to do.
“Remis,” he croaked.
“Oh, you’re back.” The male got down on his level again. “You know, that eye doesn’t look very good—”
“I killed your boy.”
One brow lifted in arrogance. “Excuse me?”
Apex took a deep breath. “Broadius . . .” The name came out as barely more than a hiss, so he put more into the name. “Broadius. I killed him.”
Forcing his head to level, he looked up at the camera that he’d mounted to the right of the hearth. Little could he have known what it would be filming. But hey, if they were going to kill him, he needed to make sure the aristocrats didn’t do something jinky and pin that hit on someone else. Apex knew firsthand the glymera had a long history of making up shit to engineer results. The whole prison camp had been stocked with the victims of their agendas.
“Go . . . get my duffle.” He stared at the camera. As if he could will the Brothers to come. “By the front door. I’ll . . . prove it.”
Remis barked a command. A moment later, one of the guys in the hoodies brought the bag over.
“Open . . .”
“Well, fucking unzip it,” Remis demanded to his goon. “Do it—”
Hoodie did the duty—and pulled out the white parka and snow pants Apex had been wearing the night he’d broken into Broadius’s tacky fucking McMansion, disarmed the security system with the code he himself had set when he’d installed it, and snuck up the stairs, finding the bitch in his dressing room.