Wrath Read Book Online L.P. Lovell, Stevie J. Cole (Wrong #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: , Series: Wrong Series by L.P. Lovell
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
<<<<715161718192737>95
Advertisement2


"I'll go down this way, you go down the other side," Marney whispers, jerking the rifle to the left side of the room.

I nod at him, and we separate. I tread through the corridors, waiting on someone to come after me, but the place is deserted, eerily quiet. My heart slams violently against the wall of my chest, each loud beat echoing in my ears. Every door I pass is wide open, each room empty. I'm so wound up right now; I can hardly breathe. I round the corner and stop, staring down a long, dark corridor. The thick odor of mildew and stale air washes over my face. I cautiously place one foot in front of the other, my eyes wide as my vision attempts to adjust to the darkness. The further down the hallway I go, the smell begins to change. My pulse is uneven, my stomach churning. This is a distinct scent. This is the stench of a decaying body. I stop dead in my tracks and hang my head. I notice my hand shaking when I go to wipe the sweat from my brow. I trail one hand along the wall to guide me and use the other hand to aim the gun in front of me. Eventually, my fingers brush the cool metal of a doorframe. Unlike all the other doors, this one is closed, and my heart stops.

The creak of the unoiled hinges pierces my ears as I push the door open. The stench from inside wafts out. I instinctively gag on the unmistakable odor of death, and I have to swallow back my urge to vomit. This is why no one is here. They're already dead. My chest rises in deep, uneven swells as my fingers clench into fists. I push the door open wider, and it hits something. The door refuses to budge any further. I drop my gaze to the ground, barely able to make out a pair of worn boots in the dim light. My eyes frantically trail up the body, and my stomach bottoms out. I lean over, resting my hand on my knees as I spit out the saliva pooling in my mouth. I grab both sides of my head and my legs buckle. I slump to the ground in front of my little brother's body. The sound of my pulse echoes in my ears, and I try to force my eyes away from him, but I can't. I slam my fist against the floor. “No! Fucking no!” I shout, my voice shaking.

I don’t know why I do it, but I reach for him, jerking my hand back at the shock of his chilled, damp skin. I hang my chin to my chest. “No, Caleb. God, please fucking no…” I mumble. I drag his lifeless body into my lap and the last part of me with a soul fucking dies. He was the only family I had. Protecting him was my job, and I failed. My brother is fucking gone, slaughtered for no damn reason. This was my wrong doing, this was my fight. Not his.

I sit with his head in my lap, choking on the pain shredding its way through my chest. I clutch his stiff body to mine because I just need to feel like he can forgive me, I want to believe that he knew I loved him, but I never even fucking told him that because I am too damn hard. I give up, and everything inside me crumbles.

I have no idea how long I sit and mourn. I know I should let him go, but I just fucking can’t. I’m can’t even move.

I jump when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Jude,” Marney’s voice is low, vacant. “Ain’t nothing you can do that’ll fix this.”

I gulp back air, fighting the urge to completely break down as I shake my head.

“Come on, son. You tried.” He pats my shoulder and walks across the room. “Awe, shit,” he sighs, then falls silent. “Jude, you’re gonna have to let that go right now, or else we’re gonna be toting two bodies outta here.

I slide Caleb’s body from my lap, pushing myself up. I’m trembling as I stumble toward the dark corner. Marney raises his pistol and aims, the bullet creating a spark when it ricochetes from the metal pipe. He leans down. “Come on little darlin’, let’s get you outta here.”

He turns around, and in the darkness, I can barely make out Tor’s limp body in his arms. I drag in a breath and rush to him, taking her from his arms. “Tor?” I brush a finger over her cheek and she slowly turns her head to my chest. Her dark hair is matted to her cheeks. The side of her face that's visible is covered in blood and bruises. She's naked aside from a ripped and tattered shirt. Dried blood is smeared all over her legs. She never deserved this, no one does. My Tor never deserved any of this!


Advertisement3

<<<<715161718192737>95

Advertisement4