Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
“Fucking … bastard,” he spits out, trying to control his breathing.
“Hmm?” He twists it just a tad, and the guy throws his head back, screaming. It’s so loud, I place my hands over my ears.
“Revenge,” he growls. “On her father.”
Tyson yanks it out and the guy sags his shoulders, his body falling forward a little more as drool falls from his lips. “And then Whitney…”
“What about her?” Tyson asks, not sounding like he cares one bit.
“She was nothing more than a pawn. Just like her sister now.”
Tyson walks up to him and places the tip of the blade under his neck, forcing him to arch it back to look up at him. “Maybe I love my wife,” he offers.
The guy barks out a laugh. “A Lord doesn’t love anything other than their brand.”
“Coming from someone who isn’t a Lord.” Tyson rolls his eyes, stepping back.
The guy bares his teeth. “It’s not hard to win when you cheat,” he spits out.
Tyson looks behind the guy to where Alex stands up against the far wall. “Uncuff him,” he orders.
Alex steps forward and unlocks the cuffs that holds the guy’s wrists behind his back. He brings them forward, rubbing them. He gets to his shaky legs and Tyson holds out the knife to Colton who takes it.
“I just want you to understand that if you kill me, you still won’t walk out of here alive,” Tyson warns him, rolling up the sleeves to his button-up. Translation, the other four men who work for my husband will make sure the guy dies.
The man snorts. “I’d gladly die a hero.”
Tyson smirks and the guy rushes him, letting out a scream. Tyson ducks as the guy goes to hit him, making him miss. Tyson wraps his arms around the guy’s legs, picking him up off the floor and starts running with him. Slamming his back into the far wall. Alex has to move out of the way so he doesn’t get hit.
Tyson lets go of him, and the guy falls to his knees. Tyson grips his head and pushes it down while his knee comes up, smashing his face. Blood and spit cover Tyson and the floor as the man falls to it.
“Last chance,” Tyson speaks. “Why did you stab my wife?”
My eyes widen. Wait? This is about me?
The guy is on all fours, looking up at my husband. He smiles. “Why would I tell you?” He falls onto his ass and wipes his bloody face. “I’m dead anyway.”
“Clear your conscience,” Tyson offers.
He laughs once more. “I will tell you this, though. Someone wants your wife more than you do.” Tyson stiffens and my breath catches. “You’re not the only monster out there, Tyson. They know every move you’re going to make. And you can’t save her. Just like you weren’t able to save Whitney.” He laughs, showing his blood-covered teeth. “Your wife will die in your arms just like her sister.”
I swallow nervously. How does this guy know all of this?
“History repeats itself,” he adds.
Tyson reaches out his right hand and Colton places the knife in it. He throws it, making contact with the guy’s shoulder, knocking him to the concrete floor, screaming out once again. “Fuuccckkk,” he gasps.
Tyson goes over to him and places his boot on the man’s chest, holding him down on his back. “Who wants her?” he demands.
The guy shakes his head. “I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”
Tyson leans over and yanks the knife from his shoulder, making the man grunt. Grabbing the man’s hair, Tyson drags him to the center of the room and positions him on his knees. Stepping behind him, he yanks his head back and places the knife to the guy’s throat.
I stiffen when the guy’s eyes meet mine. “Good luck.” He smiles before Tyson runs the knife across his neck, splitting the skin like butter.
I slap a hand over my mouth to keep my gasp from being heard. No one realizes I’m here expect for the dead man that has blood gushing from his neck wound. A gargling sound fills the room as his body convulses.
Tyson lets go of him and the guy drops to the floor, a pool of blood growing larger by the second as he bleeds out. “I’m going to go shower. Meet me in my office after you’ve cleaned this mess up,” he orders.
I run up the stairs on shaky legs and exit the basement. I walk on autopilot to the wait station. The club has opened since I’ve been down there, and the blinding lights make it feel like I’m walking uneven. Or maybe I am. I stop, placing my hands on the bar. Bowing my head, I close my eyes and try to gather my thoughts.
All of these years, I really thought Tyson killed my sister. Even my brother tried to tell me that he hadn’t. But I didn’t want to believe Miller.