Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Carnage.
It’s my life.
The only thing better than sex is taking the life from someone who really fucking deserves it. Nothing can satisfy like that. Not even busting a nut.
I follow one of the men around the corner to the already breached entrance of the basement, when a shadow comes forward in the corner of my eye. Without a second thought, I lift my arm as high as I can and bring it down so fast that the baton makes a whooshing noise through the air, followed by a loud snap as I break the arm of one of Egon’s men.
He howls in pain, falling to the ground, clutching at his arm, and Black’s man, the one in front of me, turns at the agonizing cry. He looks down at the man as I lift my leg, bringing it down, stomping on the man’s face. Blood spurts from his nose as I feel the crunch of the bones breaking in his face beneath my heel. I do this again and again, not because I need to, not because I need to disarm this man, but because it feels so fucking good to break something in this all too perfect world. The man grunts, then again, and once more, softer this time, till nothing escapes his parted mouth, his eyes completely hollow.
That’s when I decide to step away. I pant and swallow and inhale deeply, as the soldier boy by my side utters, “Not bad.”
And I huff out a half laugh, fighting to breathe. “Says the guy with a gun.”
The dude smiles then, and I tail him as he enters the basement. Four of Egon’s men have been disarmed, and Black looks around at the weapons in the room. With a shake of his head, he turns to me before speaking into his earpiece. “Copy that.” He runs his fingers over a Russian APS assault rifle. “The fuck was he preparing for, World War III?”
“Men like Baris don’t ask questions,” I admit gruffly. “We sell to the highest bidder.”
Black moves to walk past me, but stills when he reaches my side. “We got him. He tried to escape through an intricately built rabbit warren of underground tunnels, but we got him.”
My response is artless. “Good.”
It was good. That was one down, one less thing stopping me from rejoining my family.
Oh yeah, it was definitely good.
More trucks roll in, and the house is torn apart. Evidence is collected, the injured are carted off to the hospital, the dead are bagged and tagged, and Black comes to stand by me. “You did what you said you would, Falco.” He looks uncomfortable to concede, “I wasn’t sure you would, but you pulled through. You brought us a big fish. Good job.”
I don’t care for sentiment. It makes my stomach coil. So as always, I bring a dose of real to the table. “Don’t you fucking thank me. I didn’t do this for you.” I blow out a long breath, then mutter, “Fuck, I’ll empty the entire motherfucking sea if it means I get to go home, Black.” A moment’s pause, then, “Tired of other people getting my son.” I swallow hard. “I just want to be with my son.”
“You will,” Black replies immediately, before moving up the stairs of the basement and out of sight.
That sounded like an oath to me.
I’m hoping it was, because if Ethan Black doesn’t fulfill his promise, no hurricane nor hellfire could stop me from making his wife a widow.
The loud dance music booms its bass beat right through my chest, forcing my heart to thump to the tune of Calvin Harris and Rihanna’s “This Is What You Came For,” and the flashing blue neon lights darting across the darkened club hurt my eyes, but I don’t dare complain, because regardless of what I feel, I’m out of the house, and that trumps all else right now. Irrespective of the fact that I’m out on the town with Ling, this evening feels somewhat ordinary. A kind of normal I hadn’t experienced before in my sheltered life. Tonight, we aren’t abductor and captive, but just two women going out for a drink in an obviously popular nightspot.
The fact that Ling has brought me here somewhat eases my mind. Logic tells me that she wouldn’t have taken me somewhere so congested if she planned on killing me. A definite bonus.
I wish I had a cell phone. I wish I could call Julius and tell him where I am, or perhaps just text him, hoping to hear that ping and feel the reassurance of his response.
Whenever we had friends and family over, Dino and I would play the role of loving couple so well that by the time people began to leave, I would sometimes forget it was all an act. And when the ball dropped, and Dino would commence being master of my body, dictator of my mind, a slow sadness would seep into my very soul. I would feel nothing but the cold reality that was my life, a life I would’ve traded in a heartbeat to the first taker. Dino had the ability to make me feel higher than the tallest mountain, but I came to realize he only made me feel that way so he could push me over the edge and watch me fall, stumbling to my death, over and over again. Round and round we went.