Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 145402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
"No," Nathaniel said, but DiMaccio went to the base of the stairs to call up.
"Lola," Nathan said, and Lola came immediately to his side. She wasn't smiling anymore. The look she turned on Nathaniel was venomous and she pressed careful fingers to her bruising neck. Nathaniel wanted to take some satisfaction in having wounded her, but all he felt was fear. Nathan didn't look up from his son's face but said, "Would you like the pleasure of crippling him?"
"No," Nathaniel said again, but Lola crouched out of sight. Nathaniel kicked his legs out to the other side away from her. The axe wasn't sharp enough to cut his throat open without serious effort, so he ignored the way the weight of it made him gag and struggled as best he could. Nathan tolerated it until Nathaniel actually grabbed him, and then he lay his cleaver across the bridge of Nathaniel's nose.
"If you do not sit the fuck still I will gouge your eyes out."
Nathaniel froze, but he was trembling so hard it was a wonder he didn't shake his father off. "Please," he whispered, unable to stop himself. "Please don't."
"Can I?" Lola asked, excited all over again.
"We'll slit your ankles, then your knees," Nathan told Nathaniel. "And if you try to crawl away I will take your arms from you too. Do you understand?"
DiMaccio was back. He set the blowtorch down at Nathan's side. Nathaniel wanted to scream, but if he screamed now he'd really lose it and he wouldn't be able to stop. His eyes burned, maybe from the blood, maybe from panic held at bay by desperation. He clung to what remained of his self-control with bloody fingertips, knowing it wouldn't do him any good but unable to let go.
"Please," he begged again. "Just let me go, just let me go, I'm not—"
"Lola," Nathan said, but he didn't get to finish.
The cellar door opened from the outside, and a swarm of strangers came in shooting. Silencers helped muffle the sound somewhat, but in such a closed space Nathaniel still felt every pop like a bite against his skin. Lola was the closest to the door, and her body jerked as bullets tore countless holes through her. Nathan disappeared, hauled to questionable safety by DiMaccio. Nathaniel tried to lie still, not wanting to draw attention to himself, but he looked to his father as more people poured into the room.
His father was completely shielded by DiMaccio's larger body, and he was yelling to his men for help. His guards rushed down the concrete stairs, but the unending burst of gunfire drowned out their footsteps. Someone grabbed Nathaniel and pulled him across the floor away from his father. Nathaniel lashed out instinctively, but his attacker didn't fight back. Nathaniel was dumped in a corner and subsequently abandoned.
Staying put seemed a good idea with so many bullets flying. Nathaniel curled his battered body up as tight as he could and shielded his head with his throbbing arms. It was an eternity before the house went still and silent. Nathaniel slowly lowered his arms and looked around.
Nathan was kneeling in the middle of the room with four guns aimed at his head. He started to get to his feet, but someone knocked him back down with the butt of a rifle. Nathan responded with an unintelligible snarl. One of the men guarding the door whistled a signal down the tunnel, and footsteps echoed faintly in the corridor.
A man stepped into the room, and Nathaniel stopped breathing. He would know that face anywhere. Nine years had taken a severe toll on Stuart Hatford, but Nathaniel still saw his mother in Stuart's lined face. Stuart answered Nathan's scowl with a glacier stare. He had his gun out halfway to Nathan, but a woman intercepted him and jerked her chin in Nathaniel's direction.
Stuart followed her gaze, and surprise took the edge off his white fury. "Bloody hell. Nathaniel?" Nathaniel was too stunned to speak, but he managed a small nod. Stuart pointed the gun in Nathan's direction but kept his stare on his nephew. "Where is Mary?" Nathaniel couldn't find his voice, so he shook his head. Stuart's expression shuttered; his glimmer of hope disappeared as quickly as it'd come. "Don't look. This will be over in a moment."
"How dare you," Nathan said savagely. "You defy Moriyama by coming here and killing my men. You are a dead man walking. You don't have the power to—"
Stuart didn't let him finish. Nathan's body jerked as two bullets punched holes into his chest. Nathaniel watched, wide-eyed and disbelieving, as blood splattered his father's throat and rushed down his shirt to stain his jeans. Nathan's body fell backward from the force of impact and hit the floor with a wet smack.
Nathaniel pressed a shaking hand to his mouth, then clamped his other hand over it. It wasn't enough to smother his ragged keen.
"I told you not to look," Stuart said.
That wrenching feeling in his chest wasn't grief, but a need so fierce Nathaniel thought it would kill him. His world was crumbling around him and he was falling. Nathaniel couldn't breathe, much less explain that terrifying exhilaration. He didn't fight when two of Stuart's men hoisted him to his feet.
Stuart crossed the room to stand in front of him. Nathaniel stared past him at his father's corpse. Stuart's hand on his chin forced his attention to his uncle's face. Stuart gave Nathaniel an intent once-over, checking his wounds with a furious gaze.
"He can ride with me," one of the women said.
"He is our only ticket out of here," Stuart said. "We will leave him behind. For now," he added before Nathaniel could react. He clenched his fingers tighter on Nathaniel's face and gave him a small shake. "You will listen to me and do exactly as I say. They only let us come here unchallenged because we promised we would take him alive."
Nathaniel finally found his voice. "The Moriyamas?"
"No," Stuart said, so harsh Nathaniel leaned away from him. "Do not speak that name tonight. You cannot pull them into this. They were not expecting their Butcher to die and we only have a small window in which to win their favor. We are giving you to the FBI as a distraction. You need medical attention, and we cannot yet take you where we need to go. This is the only way you survive. Do you understand?"