Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Siren is terrified of me, and asking me to return to help her would have taken a shitload of guts, so perhaps I need to locate my balls and show the same kind of strength. If she can step out of her comfort zone, then why the fuck shouldn’t I?
Swallowing past the unease, I turn and lock my gaze on Siren’s once again and watch as a strange mix of relief and fear flash through her eyes. She didn’t expect me to turn back or to show a scrap of compassion, and honestly, the idea is fucking with me too.
I make my way deeper into the charred gym, my eyes never straying from hers as I unsheathe a blade from the holster on my belt. Siren’s eyes widen, fearing the worst, but as I release the knife with a flick of my wrist and watch it sink deep into 343’s throat, she begins to relax.
“I suppose you’re going to want to take credit for that kill,” Siren mutters.
To be honest, I couldn’t give a shit about the credit. They’re all going to be mine by the end of the games anyway. Assuming Shadow doesn’t get the drop on me. But then, I don’t see how this is supposed to end. I won’t kill a child, no matter how good she is, so there’s no other option but for me to die.
I make my way toward her in silence, pulling a new knife from my hip.
“Ahh fuck. You are going to kill me, aren’t you? I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”
My gaze settles on the rope as I try to figure out the best way to get her down. It’s obvious I’ll have to cut her hair. She watches me in return, her gaze narrowed as though trying to read me, and when I lift my arm, readying to throw the knife, those deadly green eyes of hers spring wide with horror. “Oh hell no. If you even think about cutting my hair, I’ll gut you like a fish where you stand.”
I pause at that, dropping my gaze back to hers. She’s in the middle of being rescued from her stupid, foolish mistake, and she wants to threaten me? She’s in no position to make threats, but I still find her threat endearing. Even on the verge of death, she doesn’t let up on her attitude.
I think I like this girl.
Adjusting my hold on the knife, I let it fly through the air, severing the rope right above the knot in her hair, and like a heavy sack of shit, Siren drops to the ground with an ear-piercing scream.
“Fuck,” she grunts as her ass hits the floor, and I have no doubt that will leave a nasty bruise. She gets to her feet, rubbing her ass while fixing me with a filthy stare. “Really? Out of all the ways you could have gotten me down, that’s the one you chose?”
“I think the words you’re looking for are thank you,” I tell her, watching as she shrinks away, not having expected me to actually respond.
Her body stiffens, and she takes a reluctant step back while doing everything in her power to look unbothered by my presence.
Surprise, she’s failing.
“Thank you,” she says, the words sounding like poison on her tongue as she pulls her long plait over her shoulder. She gets busy doing what she can to release the remaining rope from her long strands while I stand here, unsure what to do.
“So, umm . . .” she starts awkwardly, her gaze flicking to the lifeless bodies of 343 and The Midnight Killer. “Are you going to take their IDs?”
I scoff. “You can keep them warm for me, Little Siren, but don’t worry, I’ll be back for them real soon.” And with that, I turn on my heel and walk away.
9
SIREN
What in the ever-loving fuck just happened? I don’t even know what to feel about it. Embarrassment that Reaper just witnessed the lowest point of my career or relief that he was there to save my stupid ass. Either way, I’m now left even more confused than I was before.
This is the third time he’s shown up like that. Well, I suppose the first time while on the roof doesn’t exactly count. He was already there and watched me make a break for the roof, but then he stayed and made a point that he was untouchable. The other two times—tonight and with The Boston Maneater—were different. He specifically made a point to be there. With The Boston Maneater, I could have easily shrugged it off as a coincidence, but twice in a row? There’s no coincidence here. He’s been tracking me, and he’s been doing it flawlessly.
Every step I have taken has been done with caution, except for one slight mistake with a rope, but that’s beside the point. I have been careful. Everywhere I go, I’ve made sure that I’m not being followed. I take extra precautions, watch my back at every step. There’s no way he should be able to track me, but he keeps showing up.