Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
The next few moments passed in silence, merging into one as Gabriel hung his head, struggling to fight off the memory of leather straps holding him in place while Martinez violated him, filling the air with sweat and the same goddamn cologne.
He wanted this man gone.
But he wanted to be out of the car even more.
“We’re here,” Abaddon decided, and moments later, the car came to a halt.
“Listen, I see we got off on the wrong f—”
The blade shut Martinez up again.
Gabriel took a deep breath, overcome by a strange calm. He still yearned for revenge, but for the first time ever, he wasn’t afraid in Martinez’s presence.
Abaddon would rather fail his mission than see him hurt.
“Search him for any weapons,” Abaddon commanded.
Gabriel stalled, because this meant getting close to the bastard, but he reached into the pockets of Martinez’s jacket, and pulled out a small gun, which he passed to Abaddon.
The sharp yellow glow of the headlights created an otherworldly atmosphere. As if this wasn’t Earth anymore but Purgatory, where Martinez would be judged and thrown straight to Hell.
Abaddon left the car only once Gabriel was out, and the way he proficiently took off the safety off the firearm and pointed it at Martinez sent a shiver down Gabriel’s spine. Shadows cast behind Abaddon resembled a set of wings, but there was nothing angelic about the way he growled from under the black hood.
“Out of the car.”
Martinez had his lips set into a tight line, but he raised his hands, moving with the enthusiasm of a crocodile shoved forward with electric prods. One look away, and it would bite.
“Don’t kill him yet. I have questions,” Gabriel said, grabbing a rope from the back seat. Abaddon had taken it just in case, and it would now come in handy.
Martinez gave a manic cackle and stared straight at him. “What do you want? A fucking threesome? If so, I’m taking the back end again,” he growled, and for the first time Gabriel saw his face contort in fury. He was an animal who knew how slim his chances were, and he was ready to do anything to get away, even attempt a risky provocation.
“Shut the fuck up,” Abaddon hollered before turning his shadowed face toward Gabriel. “What can he possibly give you? I won’t be like those villains from old movies, who waste time explaining their plan instead of just offing the motherfucker!”
Gabriel huffed in frustration. “He’s obviously not even religious! Why did he do it? I need to know what’s going on!”
Martinez smirked at him despite the sheen of sweat on his face betraying his fear. “I’d argue fucking you was a religious experience.”
Gabriel lost it. Rage flooded his veins, and all he wanted was to see this man shattered into pieces and begging for mercy just like he had all those years ago.
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” He smacked Martinez with the bundle of rope, then punched him in the stomach for good measure.
He could vaguely hear Abaddon’s voice through the haze of fury, but before he could have packed another punch, the shadows danced around him, and a firm hand pressed against his throat. Warm breath licked the back of his head as he was forced to face Abaddon, struck that he’d fucked everything up.
“Go on, shoot me now,” Martinez hollered, hiding his head behind Gabriel’s as Abaddon stepped forward, a menacing silhouette in black. “You know why I did it, maggot?” he whispered into Gabriel’s hair as he squeezed his neck harder and yanked at his arm. “I did it because I could. Because I was curious where John’s weird fucking hallucinations would end up taking us.”
“I’m sorry!” Gabriel cried, staring at the tense silhouette in front of him with a heavy heart.
“You don’t yet know what being sorry means,” Martinez hissed and stepped back, dragging Gabriel with him as if he were a doll. Fear sank deep into Gabriel’s bones, keeping his lungs empty when he thought of his future, because Martinez would kill him and then flee, unpunished.
A scream tore out of his mouth when the woods echoed with a bang. The air smelled of fire, but as the hold around him loosened, instinct kicked in. He burst from Martinez’s hold and dashed toward Abaddon, who approached with the certainty only the Angel of Vengeance could have. Gabriel’s legs were so weak he fell over to his knees, but that didn’t stop him until his hand reached Abaddon’s shoe.
From the safety of his man’s proximity, he looked back to see that Martinez wasn’t dead. Wheezing, the bastard attempted to crawl away, dragging his bleeding leg behind him. With the bright light casting deep shadows, it was like a scene from one of Gabriel’s favorite shows.
“I didn’t come up with all that cult shit!” he yelled, as if that could clear his name. “Do I look like someone who wants to go back to fetching water from a well and heating with firewood? I can’t fucking function without drive-thrus! It was Father John’s fucked up idea to summon some demon and make him change the world back to how it used to be. I don’t even remember why he wanted to do that, but he keeps adding to the lore each time he gets a good high, all right? He’s the one who organized it all. He brainwashed me! I was just a young cop, going about his business when he and that bitch Benson recruited me into their bed!”