Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Tyson brings his car to a stop and rolls down his window. I lock my cell as he punches in the code, and the gate opens, allowing us access to Carnage.
He brings the car to a stop once we hit the circle drive and we get out, making our way up to the double doors. The same man from before greets us. “This way, gentlemen.”
We follow him up a set of stairs and down a long hallway. We’re not going to the office again, that’s clear when he pushes a door open, and we begin to descend a new set of stairs.
He walks us down a darkly lit hallway, and we come to a metal door at the end. He knocks twice before pushing it open, making it squeak loudly.
“Gentlemen.” He nods, holding it open for us.
I enter first, giving him a nod of my head while Tyson follows me. The door closes, shutting us inside.
“Tyson. Sin.” The man with the tattoo of the gagged nun on his arm greets us, leaning up against the far concrete wall. “So glad you guys could make it.” His lips turn into a sinister smile that instantly puts me on alert. But I push down the urge to start throwing punches. I’m not even going to pretend that I don’t need them. We all know that I do.
“Why are we here?” Tyson asks, getting to the point, crossing his arms over his chest.
No one answers him. Instead, our eyes fall on the guy who kneels in the middle of the concrete room. Patches of his dark hair is missing. He’s in a straitjacket and on his knees. Naked from the waist down with his head bowed forward.
One of the brothers steps up to him. “Are you hungry, Oscar?” he asks.
The man’s head snaps up, his sunken blue eyes wide and wild. His lips cracked and dry. He looks feral. Like a rabid dog that’s kept chained up.
The Spade brother holds a plate in his hand. Small pieces of steak cut up on it. The other brother removes a pocketknife from his pocket and holds it out to him.
The one kneeling stabs a piece of steak with the tip of the knife and holds in out to the guy in the straitjacket. Oscar leans forward, not wasting a second and closes his lips around it, knife and all. When he pulls back, he smiles and blood covers his crooked teeth, now slopping on the piece of steak. He stabbed himself in the process of grabbing the steak.
“That’s a good boy, Oscar,” the Spade brother praises the guy. “Want another?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” he rushes out, nodding.
The Spade brother stabs two pieces this time, making them cover more of the blade. Holding it out, the guy once again wraps his lips around the knife, sliding his mouth along the edge of the blade, removing the steak. Blood drips from his smacking lips.
“You left some of the juice.” The Spade brother holds it up in front of his face and the guy hungrily licks the blade. Cutting himself over and over to get every little drop. “Good, isn’t it?”
“So good.” The guy closes his eyes and moans. You can’t miss the fact that he’s now hard.
“You earned this, Oscar.” The Spade brother shoves the last few pieces of steak onto the floor and the guy leans over like a dog and eats it up off the dirty concrete.
All three brothers turn to face me and Tyson. My body stiffens, wondering what the fuck we’re doing here and why they wanted us to see that. I mean, the Lord in me tells me it’s a warning. To show just how fucked up they are.
They are Carnage. They run it like their own personal hell.
My father’s words echo in my mind.
“What if I told you we’ll give you what you want,” one states, and my pulse picks up with anticipation. “But you have to give us something in return.”
“I’d say name your price and it’s yours,” I say without hesitation.
The three of them smile but I hear Tyson curse behind me, knowing that I might have just signed my life away.
ELLINGTON
I SIT IN my car parked outside the house. My knees bounce, and my hands are sweaty. After Sin left me crying in the kitchen, I crawled into bed and spent all day trying to figure a way out of the life I’ve been given.
There’s no escape. I could run, but where would that get me? A life of always looking over my shoulder? There’s probably a tracking device on my car. After what Sin said about my birth control, I’ve learned I know nothing. He’s been one step ahead for months. Years, actually.
I look at my clutch that sits in the passenger seat. I made sure to check, double-check, triple-check … I’m not pregnant, and I hate how fucking sad that makes me.