Total pages in book: 175
Estimated words: 164346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
“Tell me, Jacob. Just how bad do you want to die?” I ask and hear the others laugh at my question.
An audience is always needed. Your fellow brothers must witness your devotion. Otherwise, it doesn’t exist.
He gets to his feet and spins around to face me. Growling, he shows me his teeth before charging me again. This time, I don’t move out of the way. Instead, I meet him head-on with my fist. The blow knocks him back, and blood flies from his mouth. My knuckles split from the force.
Lifting my hand to my mouth, I lick the blood and rain off them. “Tastes like victory,” I mock.
Wiping the blood from his busted face, he stumbles, eyes blinking rapidly. I clocked him pretty good. “You …” he chokes out. “You …”
“Ryat,” I remind him of my name since he seems to have forgotten.
He charges me once again, this time much slower than the last. Sidestepping him, I lift my arm and let him run into it. My forearm hits his Adam’s apple, knocking him off his feet and flat on his back.
He rolls over onto his side, coughing and grabbing at his throat. I take the chance and kick him in the face and blood gushes from his now broken nose.
I fall to my knees, straddling him. My hands wrap around his throat, cutting off his air.
His hands slap my arms, feet kick, and hips buck underneath me, but he doesn’t have a chance.
As my grip tightens, his eyes bulge. “You will not beat me,” I growl.
When a Lord fights, he fights to the end. There can only be one winner. Only one left standing. And I refuse to be anything but.
CHAPTER THREE
INITIATION
RYAT
COMMITMENT
JUNIOR YEAR AT BARRINGTON UNIVERSITY
I ENTER THE house as quietly as a church mouse. The order was simple. I was given a location in Chicago, a name—Nathaniel Myers—and a picture.
Take him out.
I make my way down the hallway and up the winding staircase to the second floor. Taking a right, I stop at a closed door. Reaching up, I place my finger to my lips to tell Matt to be quiet. He’s like a fucking bull in a china shop. We were given a partner for this assignment to see how we work with others, but I prefer to be on my own. Not only do I have to watch my back but now I’ve also got to watch his as well.
Matt nods once, running his hand down over his face before gripping the gun, holding it down to his side. Matt and I have been friends for three years now. Ever since we moved into the house of Lords and started Barrington University in Pennsylvania. But that doesn’t mean I want to work beside him. I just do better on my own.
Opening the door, I enter the room, seeing a man and woman lying on a bed with the sheets pushed down to their waist. She’s topless, her big paid-for tits on full display. A tattoo of a rose underneath her right one. The guy lies on his stomach, hands shoved under his pillow. I’m sure there’s a gun under there at all times. He probably sleeps with his finger on the trigger.
Walking over to the side of the bed, I place the barrel of my suppressor to his head and pull the trigger, getting it over with. I could draw it out, but why take that chance? Too many things can go wrong. And it’s not like you get points for creativity.
The woman stirs, and Matt goes over to her side of the bed, ripping the covers off her even more. She’s completely naked.
“Matt,” I hiss. “Let’s go.”
He pulls the knife from his back pocket, flipping it open. “She …”
“Is not on the list,” I whisper-shout. We don’t deviate from our orders.
He reaches out and grabs one of her breasts, making her shift and let out a moan.
I round the foot of the bed, coming up behind him, and point the end of my suppressor at his head. “Get the fuck out of here. Right now,” I demand.
He chuckles, lifting his hands in surrender. “Just having a little fun, Ryat.” Turning around, he faces me, but I keep my gun pointed between his blue eyes. “Aren’t you tired of doing what the Lords say? Don’t you want some pussy?”
My teeth grind. “There are rules for a reason.” I’m not saying they make sense, but I’ve come too far to break them now.
“Fuck the rules,” he snaps, loudly making her shift onto her side. Reaching down, he undoes the buttons on his jeans, followed by his zipper. “I’m going to fuck her. You can do whatever you want with your cock.” He rips his belt from his jeans and turns to face her.
A shrill scream makes both of us jump. She crawls across her dead husband and runs out of the room.