Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Where are Patrick and Sinéad?” I ask him, gripping his cheeks and turning his attention on me.
The questions about Miren will come later. The important information I need right now is where the feck those two are. I know Patrick isn’t dead. Evil doesn’t die—it hides. It lies in wait until you let your guard down.
When he doesn’t answer, I nod for my implements to be brought over. The sleek metal tray is carried by one of the prospects. Out of all of them, he’s shown the most promise of bein’ patched in. The boy is only twenty, but he has a strong stomach, which is what we need here.
I grab one of the heavy metal hooks. It’s big enough to cause enough damage to get a man talkin’. But it’s small enough to fit into the eyelid.
“What the fuck are you doing with that?” our man asks.
With a grin, I grip his eyelashes, and I tug. When the lid comes away from the eye, I move quickly. The beggin’ and pleadin’ starts, but I ignore the request for mercy. A gasp comes from behind me, and her gentle sound, which I want to hear the moment I slide into her cunt, is like music to my ears. If Miren thinks this is bad, though, she’ll be more shocked at what I have in store for her da and that bitch mother of hers.
I’ve never in my life hurt a woman. Never wanted to. Until I learned of the real reason my ma is dead. The hit was ordered by Sinéad. And even though I haven’t yet heard her reasons, I won’t give a shite about why.
The blood that seeps down this arsehole’s face is like a feckin’ waterfall of red.
“Please, you’re a fucking monster,” he cries out in agony.
Offering him a smile, I say, “Aye, tell me somethin’ I don’t know.” I straighten up, still holding onto the metal that’s pierced through the soft skin of his eyelid. “Where is yer boss?” I hiss, low and feral. I’m tense, my shoulders are tight, and my hand is fisted at my side, needing to hurt someone, something.
“If you think I’m going to talk, you’re sorely mistaken,” he tells me. “You can do anything you want. I’m not fucking talking.”
I have never been one to shy away from an invitation like that. With a smile, I reach for the black gloves and slide them on while keeping my focus on the man before me. I pick up the next implement—a long, thick needle.
“I’ve always enjoyed bein’ creative when it comes to talkin’ to arseholes like yourself,” I murmur as I lean forward, one hand on the arm of the chair, the other holding onto the needle. “Hammer,” I call to the new prospect. I need his assistance. “Why don’t we help our guest out of his trousers and pants?”
Once I can grab his flaccid dick with my gloved hand, I hold the small shaft and smile at the fecker before I press the long steel blade into the slit of his cock. His cries of pure agony fill the room.
“Ye know, some men find this a turn-on,” I tell him calmly as if I’m tellin’ him the weather forecast.
“Fuck, stop. Please stop,” he begs when the sleek silver has almost penetrated him fully. “I-I don’t know where they are. Both of them. Please. I don’t, I really don’t.” His brow is dripping with sweat, and there’s blood trickling from his cock. Without warning, I pull the needle out, which earns me a cry of utter distress.
“Clean this up,” I tell the men before I pull the gloves off and take one last look at the bastard. I slam my fist into his mouth, which paints my hand in his blood. “You’ll died today.” I turn and walk away with Miren following close behind me.
“Feck!” My voice booms as I walk into the small office in the corner of the warehouse. I’m sure everyone can hear us. I don’t give a shite. They can listen all they want because they know who I am. Not finding Sinéad and Patrick is frustrating. It’s feckin’ with my head.
I glance at Miren, and as much as I want her dead, I can’t feckin’ bring myself to hurt her. I’ve learned her real name. She’s the one hiding in plain sight, but yet she’s nothing like her father. I’m torn between wanting to kill her and wanting to kiss her. “You can’t stay here. You can’t be near me. There’s no way this is goin’ ta work. Why are you feckin’ with my head?”
She shakes her head sadly. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears as she stares up at me. “I’ve never felt this way before. Never wanted to be close to someone as much as I do with you. And I know it’s wrong.”