Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Maybe. I’m not sure,” I tell King with a stark honesty that I’m sure he can’t fully appreciate.
“First, I’ve decided it’s time to take from you what you took from my woman,” I shrug, pulling out my bowie knife from its sheath and holding it up to look at King. His gaze lingers on the shiny, silver blade and I can see the fear there. He wants me to kill him, to end his punishment but that just seems too easy. I want him… to pay.
“I took nothing from her! I was teaching her to reach her potential!” he screams and I have no fucking idea what he means by that, but I’ve decided not to kill him now—which could make this tricky. If he dies, he dies, I guess. But, I really want him alive longer. I want him to know so much pain that it will follow him into death. He doesn’t deserve the peace death might give him.
“That’s where you’re wrong motherfucker. While you were beating my woman, you took our child.”
The asshole has the gall to laugh at that. That snaps what restraint I have. I’ll enjoy inflicting pain on him.
“Go ahead and laugh. You’ll be crying after this knife slices into your stomach.”
“I’ve been stabbed before,” he says, trying to act like it doesn’t bother him at all.
I go over and turn the propane heater on I have in the corner. I’ve taken the guard off of it, leaving the flame open. I stick the blade to it, heating it up as I grin at King, letting all of my hate boil through me and run free.
“I’m not stabbing you motherfucker. I’m going to cut a baby out of you.”
“You’re crazy! I can’t… You can’t!” he cries, and now I can see pure panic in him. I look down at the blade that now has a different tint on the silver blade. It’s hot… with any luck it will stem some of the bleeding so the asshole doesn’t die right away. Maybe he’ll just develop an infection and suffer for a while.
One can at least hope.
“Relax, fucker. I’ll probably get nothing but your guts. With any luck that will slow down the way you’re shitting your big fancy suit,” I growl, plunging the hot knife into his stomach. His screams are so loud my damn ears will probably ring for a month. I cut my way down. It’s a jagged line and I’m doing my best not to go too deep, though I realize I seem to be failing in that endeavor. “If you beg me nicely, I might even bandage you up so you don’t die too quickly,” I tell him once his screams die down.
He screams again as I move my knife deeper. It’s not making me feel a damn bit better, but his pain is helping to soothe a little of my anger.
I won’t let him die yet…. I can’t.
59
Rory
“You need to end this, Noah.”
“Rory—”
“Don’t hand me the familiar lines about needing to pay him back for the misery he’s caused. You’ve told me that for two weeks,” I argue with him.
It has been two weeks since he came back with King. I wouldn’t have known, but he was kind of forced to tell me once members of the club were free to leave, and my security detail wasn’t everywhere. I haven’t seen King, but Noah has been in my bed every night, so wherever he is—it’s not far. Noah hasn’t talked much about it, I think he’s afraid that because I’m not from his world, I wouldn’t understand, but I do. I don’t want King alive to hurt me or my family again. Maybe I was always meant to be in Noah’s world, because I’m fine with him killing King… I honestly just want it done.
“Gorgeous, you don’t understand. In my world you have to deliver retribution. If I don’t do that, I can’t lead my men. If I don’t do that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. That man took too damn much from—”
“You don’t understand, Noah. I don’t care what you do to King. What I’m worried about, Sweetheart, is you.”
“I’m fine,” he says, stubbornly.
“You aren’t. You’re anything but fine. You may be the one delivering out the torture, finding your justice, but—”
“Rory, I love you, but don’t try to tell me that I shouldn’t torture that miserable bastard,” Noah growls.
“I am not saying that. I would never say that.”
“Then, what are you saying?”
“That after two weeks, if you haven’t delivered your message by now you never will.”
“Rory—”
“Can’t you see, Noah? By keeping him alive, he’s breathing your air and that’s torturing you. You’re never going to get our child back, but if you don’t stop, put an end to this and come into the sun with me, we’ll never work on that family you want and Ryan needs brothers and sisters, Sweetheart.”