Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“What are we waiting for?” my brother asked, lingering a few feet away from us.
“He has yet to strike the match.”
“Come on, Ky. You could’ve just said Brody isn’t ready,” Maverick deadpanned.
“He is now.” I looked over at the Mustang as it went up in flames along with the barrel.
“Let’s go,” Ciaran called over the siren.
Our group moved as a single entity, positioning Melantha and Dion in the center.
“Stay close,” I murmured to Grace as I passed her, my voice a slightly distorted growl through the mask.
Ciaran and I took the lead, with Lilianna and Grace right behind us.
Maverick took one side of the outer ring, Brody the other as he caught up with us, leaving Charon to watch our backs.
We'd meticulously planned our path well before this moment, and I felt a twisted anticipation at the prospect of unleashing havoc on anyone who dared stand in our way. As we emerged from the warehouse, the deafening boom of an explosion shook the ground beneath us. I didn't need to look back to know that the Mustang had met its fiery demise.
The heat on my back and the rumbling beneath my feet were enough confirmation. Outside, chaos reigned supreme. The hands of the clock tower spun wildly as if trying to keep up with the frenzy that had consumed the city. Masked figures darted through the streets, their movements swift and lethal, permanently disqualifying anyone unfortunate enough to cross their paths.
The panicked cries and desperate scattering of the unprepared were like music to my ears. My fingers twitched over where I had concealed my curved blade, an extension of my family name, Vetis.
I took it all in as we moved forward. Some contestants showed potential, like a curvy woman and a shorter man who had overpowered an overconfident girl with a bloody butterfly mask on her face. She’d been a new recruit to the games, earning a spot only a few months ago. Someone else would fill it come tomorrow. The Playground was never short of killers.
“This is insane!” Lana’s voice rose above all the noise.
“This is nothing,” I reasoned, my words nearly lost amidst the cacophony of screams and sirens.
"Does that sound ever stop?" Grace's voice reached me, a thread of frustration woven into her question.
"It will, just a little longer," my brother’s voice carried from behind.
Suddenly, Maverick moved with lethal precision, intercepting the fool that had been waiting for us between two storefronts. There was some type of self-made weapon in his grasp, a round object with long skinny spikes. Maverick grabbed the man by his throat with one hand, and his wrist with the other, twisting hard enough that he was able to take possession of the man’s weapon and use it against him, cleaving the spikes into the side of his head.
An unmanly sound came from beneath the golden fox mask. I couldn’t fully enjoy it because of the siren, but I was able to witness his blood expelling. Maverick released the man’s throat and let him pitch to the side, moving away before his body hit the ground. He gave us a thumbs up as he rejoined our group, keeping an eye out for any other potential attackers.
The distinctive roar of a motorcycle tore through the air, the sound striking a familiar chord within me. It was my prized bike, a beast of a machine gifted by my adoptive father after I had willingly thrown myself into the Playground for the fourth time. There was a purpose to those victories, a story etched in blood and resolve. I'd share it with Sunshine soon. I could feel her behind me, exactly where I needed her to be if she couldn’t stand at my side.
“I can’t believe you let him ride it of all people. You never let me drive. I feel a little hurt, Ky,” Maverick commented.
“You can barely ride a pedal bike, Mav,” Ciaran countered, causing Lana to look over at Maverick with raised brows.
“I have a heavy foot,” he defended himself.
“You don’t press down on bike pedals,” Lana pointed out.
“He’s full of shit,” Charon interjected with a laugh.
“He won’t bring her back with a single scratch,” I reminded Maverick yet again.
He and I had this conversation three times already. Raphael had done more than enough to prove he was loyal to us over the years. If he hadn’t my sister would have killed him herself. She had two other men in her bed to make up for his absence should he ever be caught lacking.
“How do you know he won’t spin out or something?” Maverick countered.
“I promised each mark I found would cost him a piece of flesh.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just realized how much I’d rather not ride your bike.”
“I miss Twisty," Brody lamented loudly, his voice heavy with longing for his own prized vehicle.