Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“Brought a lot of people just to chat,” I say, forcing a grin on my lips.
“You know there is not going to be a whole lot of talking. Less talking, more killing.”
“You brought a lot of people for that too. Did you forget how to hold a gun yourself?” I know provoking him is probably not my best bet right now, but fuck, I’m mad. Mad at him, mad at myself, mad at the world.
“Why shoot the gun myself when I have people that can do it for me? People like you. It’s really a shame, you were one of my favorites. I guess it was my own fault for not finding the truth out sooner.” He shakes his head like he still can’t believe it.
“Find out what?”
“Find Dove… then find out who she is to you—”
I cut him off before he can finish. I don’t want to hear him talk about my relationship with her, but I do want to know why the hell he wants her. “Why have you been looking for her for the last ten years?”
He chuckles. “So it was you who killed Billy. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that prick. Did you at least make him suffer first?”
“Am I known for delivering peaceful deaths?”
He laughs louder. “No. And that’s exactly why it’s going to hurt me to see you go. You could have had a long and prosperous career with me.”
“Answer my question!” I growl. Two of his goons take a threatening step toward me, but Christian raises his hand, motioning for them to stay put. “Why do you want her?”
“Well, let’s just say it’s Castro’s fault that I want her dead. But I don’t want to bother you with the boring details since you are going to be busy dying. Rest assured, I’ll take good care of your little Dove. I’ll make sure my men have some fun with her before I kill her.”
I lunge for him before his last words have left his mouth. I’m fast, but his men anticipated my move. Two of them are on me before I can even get close to Christian. I let my fist fly, hitting one of them right in the nose, bones crunching beneath my knuckles. The other one grabs my arm and twists it back painfully.
Twisting my body, I free myself and punch him in the chest in one move. The guy stumbles back but not before slugging me in the side of the head. My head is pounding, but I shake it off and try to push past him to get to Christian. When I look up, I freeze.
Christian is only a few feet away from me, his gun pointed at my chest. I hear the gun go off and I feel the hot searing pain lancing across my chest like fire moving outward. My body jerks back involuntarily as the bullet slices through my muscle and tissue.
“I guess for you, I can make an exception and pull the trigger myself, old friend,” Christian says, and if I didn’t know him any better, I would say he is actually a little bit remorseful for killing me. “Find the girl and bring her to me,” he orders his men without looking away from me.
Anger and despair fill every fiber of my body. I want to kill him, want to kill every single one of his men, but all my body does is sag to the ground. I try to reach for my gun, but my limbs are useless. I’m useless. Dove is going to die. I’m going to lose everything.
“Goodbye, Zane…” Christian’s voice sounds far away, but that can’t be right. He was just here. I feel my eyes close, my mind fading away. No, no, no! I need to stay awake. I need to get to Dove, protect her.
I try to get up, but my body feels like it’s made out of lead. My mind is whirling, and all I can think of is how much I hate Christian. How much I want to kill him right now. I used to think he was my savior, Dove’s as well. He saved us both, and now he ends us both.
The memory of how it all began comes rushing forward. The beginning of the end.
“I’m not supposed to be released; you’re making a mistake.”
“I can’t believe you’re complaining about being released early. Be glad you get to leave. Mistake or not. You’re no longer my problem,” the prison guard says and shows me through the door.
I’m only seventeen, but for the last few months, I’ve done nothing but work out every day. Now I’m bigger than most kids my age, maybe that’s why they deemed me mature enough for prison. I’d only spent a few weeks in juvenile detention before they shipped me off to the state penitentiary.