Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
The choice had to be made, and there was no question who it would be.
“I was out late last night. Bane was hell-bent on making me see the job through,” I told her. That wasn’t a lie.
My older brother was a bastard most of the time, but he was also one of the most lethal men in the family—or rather, the Mississippi branch of the Southern Mafia. My dad had handed the task of breaking me in on the darker side of our business to Bane. It wasn’t like I hadn’t killed anyone before. They’d made me do that when I turned seventeen. Normally, they waited until the age of eighteen for that lesson in life, but Than and Gathe were a year older than me, and we’d gone through all the steps together.
Thankfully, Saylor didn’t push. She could be whiny as fuck when she wanted to be. I was probably the only male on earth who ever told her no.
I draped my arm around her shoulders and headed for the door. Than was over with Gathe and the redhead, but I was ready to go. Get the point across to the two of them I was leaving. There was no changing my mind.
“You didn’t say much about last night,” she said, glancing up at me. “Was it … bad?”
It wasn’t the first time I’d been to the underground cellar on our property, but it was the first time I’d been forced to inflict the punishment on someone. My kills had been limited to gunshots up until last night. No actual blood had coated my hands. I couldn’t say that anymore.
Saylor understood this life. She’d been raised by the former head of the Mississippi branch. Her father’s Parkinson’s disease had reached a point that he had to step down from his position twelve years ago. Seeing as he had only two daughters and no sons, the boss back then, Garrett Hughes, had sent Linc Shephard to take over our branch. The Shephards were the only family inside the Southern Mafia who had been in it as long as the Hughes. Linc’s brother was the head of the Georgia branch. It was a hierarchy thing. Linc’s son, Levi, was one of the current boss, Blaise Hughes’s, closest friends, and no one expected him to leave Ocala, Florida—where the main headquarters were located—to take over when his father stepped down. We all knew that position was going to Bane one day. Other than the Rices, we were the next-oldest family in the Mississippi branch.
I knew she was waiting on a response from me, but I didn’t want to talk about it. I shrugged. “It wasn’t enjoyable,” I admitted. “I don’t get off on it the way I think Bane does.”
She let out a small laugh. It was no secret that my brother was angry, aggressive, rude, and a general asshole.
“You’ll get used to it eventually,” she replied.
Having a girlfriend who knew the family secrets, understood the life, and was a part of it was something I’d once thought made me the lucky one. The others had to hide that from the girls they dated. None of them had ever done serious relationships because of it. That no longer mattered to me. I had a fight on my hands with my father, and I knew it. This wasn’t going to go over well with anyone inside the family.
Everyone expected me and Saylor to marry one day. It would keep the Rice blood inside the Mississippi branch of the family especially since there wasn’t a son to carry it out in their name. Saylor’s older sister, Fia, had married one of the members of the Louisiana branch. The understanding that I’d marry Saylor had been fine with me—until Halo. She’d changed everything.
Stepping out into the fresh air, I let my thoughts go to her. The perfect scattering of freckles on her straight, slightly upturned nose; her pink Cupid’s bow lips that could curl into a sultry smile that made my knees weak; and the delicate scent of strawberries on her skin. My hands literally ached to touch her. Hold her. God, I had to get to her. One more day without seeing her, and I felt like I might go fucking insane.
I heard the screech of tires right before the familiar pop, and maybe if I were my brother, my reaction would have been faster, quick enough. But I wasn’t Bane. Saylor’s scream came before my brain registered the pain, but when it did, I was already going down.
Several thoughts crashed over me as my body hit the pavement. The understanding that I’d been shot was the first one, but it was followed by a rapid-fire series of more: Was this bad? Could I walk away from it? I couldn’t die. Not now.
It was bad. Breathing was getting harder by the second. More tires screeched somewhere in the distance. I heard more gunshots as the car sped away.