Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
But he’s also right, I don’t have it in me to kill a man, whether it’s my father or someone else. Maybe if I stay with the DeAngelis brothers long enough, that might change, but I’m not there yet. The thought of someone’s blood being on my hands cripples me with fear.
My fingers curl around the latch of the cell and I pull it wide, grateful for the boys remaining behind as I stride into the cell. My father watches my every step, and as I move toward him, repulsion swirls heavily in my gut. “I might be weak,” I tell him, “I might not be able to take a kill shot, but I can sure as hell make your life a living hell, just as you’ve done to mine.”
His eyes widen and—BANG.
The bullet pierces right through his kneecap and a wave of satisfaction washes through me. I feel elated, on cloud fucking nine. Screw the painkillers and morphine smoothie, I’m fucking good.
My father’s screams echo through the underground playhouse and just like that, I finally get it. I turn to the boys and smile as my father bleeds behind me. “The acoustics in here are incredible.”
Marcus grins. “Like I said, we can still make a mafia wife out of you yet.”
I roll my eyes and stride out of the cell before handing the gun straight back to Roman. He takes it without question as his eyes linger on mine, checking to see what part of my soul that just cost me. “I’m not like you guys,” I tell them. “I cannot simply kill a man without losing myself in the process, and I can’t stand here and ask you to do it on my behalf because that blood will still be on my hands.”
I glance over at Levi and Marcus to make sure they’re listening as intently as their older brother. “You’re not to kill him under any circumstances. I forbid you to. I want to see him fear for his life the way he’s done to me. I want him watching over his shoulder everywhere he goes. I want him to contemplate taking his own pathetic life every single night out of fear of his debts catching up to him. So tonight, you will not kill my father. You will throw him out with the wolves and he will fight for his life, and if he happens to die in the process, then that’s on him. If he happens to live, then we will spend the rest of our lives haunting him like he fucking deserves.”
And just like that, I walk away, hoping to God that I never have to see this man again.
35
Leaning over the bathroom sink, I let my head hang limply. Did I really just shoot my father and leave him to the fucking wolves? Who the hell am I? I don’t even recognize myself anymore, but one thing is for sure, when I saw him, I didn’t run.
Every day the thought enters my mind; what would I do if I ever saw him again? And every time, I’ve told myself that I would pack up my shit and run as far as I could to escape his abuse. But, I didn’t. I looked him in the fucking eye and proved once and for all who the weak one of the family really is.
Tonight I faced my fears and I feel more alive than ever before, but what did it just cost my soul?
Had I hung around and spoke with the boys about it, I’m sure they would have told me that there’s no such thing as a soul. They wouldn’t believe in that shit, and maybe that’s the outlook I need to have on life in order to survive in their world. Sooner or later, I’m going to be faced with a situation that will destroy what’s left of me, and my guilty conscience is going to be my downfall.
I let out a heavy sigh and splash water over my face, but my mind just can’t settle. The image of my father dragging himself through the thick woods surrounding the castle won’t leave my head, blood spilling from his knee as the wolves capture his scent. There’s no way he could survive that.
There’s no doubt in my mind that he will die tonight, and if he does … fuck. I don’t want to think about that either. But what worse could he do to me? I’ve already been sold to the most dangerous man in the country and gifted to his psychopathic sons. Though, I’m not going to lie, the more time I spend with them, the more I’m starting to feel right at home here. Except for the creepy torture basement and dungeon shit they’ve got going on. Not to mention, the whole locked up vibe really isn’t meshing well with my free spirit.