Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
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HE PULLS UP to the circle drive and gets out of the car. I smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “You don’t have to walk me in.” I remove my cell and drop it into the car next to the journal I brought with me. “Make sure she gets that.” I didn’t want her to find it before Tyson returned. I remove my Lords ring and toss that into the seat as well. Won’t be needing that.
Placing his forearms on the roof of the car, he speaks, “You know she won’t forgive you, right?”
My jaw clenches.
“You really think she wants you here?” He taps his finger on the roof. Sunglasses covering his eyes. I can’t see them, but I can feel them glaring at mine. “You think she’ll find someone else? Love someone else?” He shakes his head. “I mean, she’s going to fuck other men, sure.”
“Tyson,” I growl. I’ve already had this conversation with myself a hundred times. Somehow it sounds worse hearing it out loud.
“But she loves you, Easton. And you’re doing what everyone else has always done, turn their back on her.”
I grind my teeth. “I’m protecting her.”
“By turning yourself in?” he snaps, pushing off the car. “For fuck’s sake, Sin. Use your fucking head.”
“Gentlemen, something we can do for you?”
I turn around to see all three brothers standing at the top of the stairs.
I slam my door shut and walk toward them, holding my arms out wide.
The one with the snake tattoos smiles. “You’re early, Sin. Sure you don’t want your two extra days of freedom?”
With fists clenched, I walk past them and into the open door, not bothering to look back. I follow the one I’m guessing is the leader down a hallway while the other two walk behind me.
We get into an elevator and my breathing picks up. Not because of what I’m doing, but because of what Tyson said to me. I hope that the pain is so unbearable that I never think of her with another man.
The elevator dings before the door opens. Freezing cold air fills the metal box before we can even step out. My breath now a cloud in front of my face. I smell blood. Fresh and old. There’s a haunting feeling in the air. Almost like souls trapped down here.
We walk down a narrow hallway and he pushes open a door, moving to the side to allow me to enter first.
Stepping inside, I come to a stop when I get a look at the room.
The guy with the gagged nun tattoo slaps me on the back, giving a dark chuckle. “We’ve never had someone willingly give themselves up. It won’t be as fun knowing you won’t put up a fight.”
Taking in a deep breath, I square my shoulders. This is what I agreed to. For her. She deserves this. I deserve this. We are not forgiven of our sins just because we are Lords. In the real world, Lords are gods. Here at Carnage, you’re nothing. Long gone, a forgotten soul. I’m not sure what my wife will say to the world when asked how I died. And honestly, it doesn’t matter. Eventually no one will know that I ever existed.
“Remove your shirt,” One orders.
Reaching up, I grab the back of my collar and rip it up and over my head, tossing it to the corner.
A hand hits my bare back, shoving me forward toward the center of the room. Spun around, I’m pushed up against a wooden post. The smell of blood is even stronger in here. And judging by the drains placed throughout the concrete floor, I’m guessing a lot is spilled. Hoses even hang from the ceiling. I count at least three. Easy to wash a body off. You want a quick and easy cleanup after taking a life.
My arms are yanked in front of me, handcuffs placed around each wrist, tightened to the point it pinches my skin and makes me hiss in a breath. Fuck, my hands will be numb in no time.
I see the other one walk behind me with something hanging from his hand that gets my attention, but it’s too dark for me to see. The next second, a rubber ball gag is shoved into my mouth, prying it wide open. I feel him fastening it in place behind my head.
“This is so you don’t bite off your tongue,” he whispers darkly in my ear. “We like to hear the screams. It would be a shame to make you a mute so quickly.”
Another leather belt is wrapped around my neck, pinning it to the post, before tightening to the point it restricts my air but not rendering me completely breathless. I try to slow my racing heart and breathe deeply through my nose.
The guy in front of me pulls a chain down from a spool on the ceiling. The sound echoing through the concrete room. A link is attached to the end that he places around the chain connecting the cuffs, linking them together. He pulls sharply to unlock the chain and lets go, yanking my arms above my head in the process. The position pins my already immobile head between my arms. The pinch the cuffs cause to my wrists makes me bite into the gag.