Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
A cold draft shot down my spine that this feral creature had noticed what I liked or didn’t. The thought of him finding Ily before me…of removing her pieces and making her scream.
My finger twitched around the trigger.
I wished my gun was full of death, not paint.
“It’s not really up to you to say what feelings I’m supposed to have,” I muttered.
“You’re weak.” Kyle sniffed. “Just pointing it out.”
“I could be weak.” I nodded. “Or I could finally be learning the power of emotions and all the other shit that comes with them.”
“Ah, that’s right. You’re a poor little broken boy who didn’t get a hug from his mother.” He laughed and rolled his soulless eyes. “Tell you what…when you stop searching for love and accept that you’re top of the food chain and those little jewels are ours to slice, dice, fuck, and shoot, then we’ll talk. Until then…you’re wasting my time.” He scoffed at Charles and his winded breathing. “Actually, you’re both wasting my time.” Breaking into a run, he dashed toward the black maw in the cliffs. “See you later, losers. I’ll be sure to leave a few pieces for you.”
“Asshole.” Charles watched him go. “Always has been.”
And that asshole was hunting Ily.
“See ya round, Charles.” I took off after Kyle.
No fucking way would I let him out of my sight.
Charles tried to call me back, but his wheeze faded beneath the surf.
My feet pounded over sand and sea glass, chasing Kyle as he leapt over a few rockpools and scurried up the boulders toward the black crack in the cliffside. Taking the path of least resistance, he scaled the rocks and pulled away as I slogged through soft sand.
Changing my direction, I followed his, leaping onto the rocks and praying I didn’t break an ankle.
The sly fucker kept up a pace my damn loafers couldn’t. The slippery shoes offered no traction as I did my best to leap from rock to rock. Slinging my gun over my shoulder with its black strap, I tried to go faster—to stop him, kill him, only…
A strange rumbling beneath my feet.
A roar of power; a shake of earth.
A flock of seagulls took wing.
“Watch out!” Charles yelled behind me.
Too late.
Kyle vanished into the cave just as a gush of heavy seawater exploded beneath me.
It felt as if the ocean formed a fist and sucker-punched me right in the balls, throwing me backward, slapping me with a tower of salt.
My back bellowed as I landed on craggy rocks.
My temple thwacked against a sharp outcrop.
My gun broke from my weight, the muzzle snapping in half as I tucked and rolled, wincing as a curtain of punishing rain pummelled from above just like it’d pummelled from below.
A few seconds and it was over.
The roar faded, the violent water nothing more than wetness glittering on rocks.
Fuck!
Cupping myself, I rode through the flush of icy-hot agony as my balls throbbed from the ocean’s beating. Everything hurt. Everything dripped.
Goddammit!
Clucking his tongue, Charles appeared by my pounding head.
Planting his hands on his hips, he looked at where I lay contorted and in motherfucking agony. “Blowhole got you good, huh? Avoid the rockpools. You have no idea which one will turn into a waterspout.”
The torture in my dick slowly faded, seeping into my lower belly and down my legs. I wished the pain in my head would do the same thing. “Yeah, thanks.” I groaned, gritting my teeth and forcing myself upright.
“Oh shit. Guess you’re out of the game.” Charles cocked an eyebrow at my broken gun. He chuckled as his eyes dropped down my jeans. “And I hate to tell you, but that’s not just seawater you’re dripping in.”
Ignoring the contusions throbbing in my spine and the black dots dancing over my eyes, I stood and brushed at my soaking clothes. A rush of nausea—that had nothing to do with morals and was more about a head injury—had me locking my knees so I didn’t fall back down.
At least the spots in my gaze faded as I looked at the bright orange paint coating my left side.
Great.
Fucking wonderful.
“Definitely out of the game. You’ve smashed all your paintballs and broken your gun.” Charles shrugged with fake grief. “Ah well, better luck next time, old chap. I’ll be sure to tell Ily you said hi.” Licking his lips, he bent a little closer. “I have to say, after watching you two at dinner, I’ve been dying to know how she tastes.”
I bared my teeth as the world swam a little.
Backing out of my reach, he chuckled. “You know…Kyle might like to cut them up, but what he doesn’t know is, if you don’t cause too much damage, you have a never-ending smorgasbord.”
Rubbing at my blood-streaked temple, willing the beach to stay still, I frowned. “Smorgasbord?”
Lowering his voice so even the seagulls didn’t hear him, he whispered, “I’m saying I’ve eaten a few strips off Dane over the years, and as long as you don’t cut too deep or take too much, the body heals itself in the most miraculous—”