Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I glare at the fucking devil standing before me.
“So, I decided, I’m going to kill Braxton. I’m going to let you watch, Dakoda. Watch, and sit in here with him until his body starts to rot, and then I’ll let you go. Let you live every day with that image, so you know what fuckin’ happens when you cross me.”
No.
My stomach coils and I glare at the man in front of me, wanting, somehow, to fucking blow his head off.
Only I know I can’t.
And he knows I can’t.
“You fuckin’ touch him ...” I warn.
“What?” Shanks laughs. “What are you going to do to me? Me? Nothing, boy. That’s what.”
“You fuckin’ do a single thing to him, and I’ll come after you. I’ll spend my fuckin’ life chasin’ you until I find you and kill you. I promise you that.”
Shanks bellows with laughter, shaking his head as he holds my eyes. “Please, I deal with people like you—heroes—daily. A lesson will be learned here today. I suggest you take it, because if I see you again, you’ll wish you were never born.”
Shanks raises his hand and one of his men steps forward, putting a gun in his hand. I don’t think, I just lunge, my broken body hurling toward him. I don’t get far enough before three of his men toss me back, but not before they take hold of me and beat me to a bloody pulp. By the time I land on the ground, I’m barely conscious, but I won’t give up. I can’t give up.
Braxton.
My brother.
My life.
My twin.
I look over to him and start dragging my fucked-up body over. I reach him and grab hold of him around the back of the head and look into his eyes. “Fight, Brax,” I hiss.
He shakes his head, and a lone tear runs down his cheek. “I can’t fight this, you know I can’t. I’m going to die here today. But know this, Dakoda, you did everything you could. This, it isn’t on you. It is on me. It is my fault. I don’t ever fuckin’ want you to live with guilt. But promise me you’ll find him, and you’ll make him suffer for what he’s about to do. I get out of this easily, you’re the one he’s going to torment forever.”
Tears, bloody, burst forth and run down my cheeks. I don’t fucking care if I’m crying. Because I’m helpless. So fucking helpless. I have no way out. I can’t stop what’s about to happen to my brother. I can’t stop it, no matter what I do, I can’t fucking stop it. I can’t save him. I’m his brother, and I can’t save him. Pain explodes in my chest, and I bring my forehead to his. “I’m sorry, Braxton.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. Do not carry guilt. I love you, Dakoda. Fuckin’ forever.”
“That’s enough,” Shanks growls, and two of his men haul me off Braxton and pull me away.
I fight, thrashing, my body in that much agony I can barely breathe, but I fight anyway. One last pathetic attempt at saving my brother. Shanks steps forward, pointing the gun right at Braxton’s forehead. “Should have made you suffer more, but it pleases me to know your brother is going to see you die, and he’s going to suffer enough for the both of you.”
“No,” I bellow. “No!”
Braxton kneels, all the fight gone out of him, and my bellows of agony fill the room as Shanks pulls the trigger. Braxton slumps backward, the life being sucked out of his eyes as he lands on the floor. My roars of pain fill the space, and the two men toss me to the ground, and I crawl, brokenly, toward him.
“Enjoy that.” Shanks laughs.
Then they’re gone.
I pull Braxton’s bloodied head into my lap and cry, so fucking hard I can’t breathe.
I’m so sorry, Braxton.
I let you down.
I fuckin’ let you down.
I’ll never forgive myself for this.
And I won’t rest until Shanks is dead.
I will not rest.
I’ll do whatever it takes.
I will find him.
And I will kill him.
-21-
NOW – CHARLIE
“Go out and see who is at the fuckin’ door, Charlene,” Carl growls at me, and I get up off the sofa, more than ready to run out of here and walk to the door.
If it wasn’t for the fact that Oliver is working day and night to bring my father down, I wouldn’t be here, but I have to act normal. I have to pretend everything is as it always was, nothing can change. I can’t act any differently. If my father got wind of what I’m doing, I’d be dead.
Dead.
I open the door and three men are standing, all about Carl’s age, maybe a little older. Early twenties, I guess. Carl told me they’re all selling for my father, all working for him and running his operation on the streets. I’ve never met them before, but I don’t really care to, either. Anyone who has anything to do with my father, is nothing to me.