Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Silas did his best to keep a straight face, but he failed.
“I have a better idea.” I tilted my head back and finished off the drink. “Let’s do this—man-to-man.” I pulled my shirt over my head, revealing my naked torso. There was no bulletproof vest to protect me. I got to my feet, grabbed a beer from behind the counter, and then slammed it down, breaking the bottle until it was just a shard in my hand.
Silas watched me, his hand still on his glass.
In that moment, the door opened, and his backup arrived. Probably thought I’d be dead right now.
“Kill me—and you take it all.”
His eyes shifted back and forth.
“Or you can just shoot me like a coward. That sounds more like your style.”
That got him on his feet. He grabbed a bottle and slammed it down. Beer and froth poured out, and he had his sharp weapon to take me down.
The other people in the bar hightailed it out of there, heading to the emergency exit to get on the street as quickly as possible.
I kicked aside one of the nearby tables so we’d have room to slice each other apart. I faced him, the bottle gripped in my hand, my heart beating slow and steady. It was a long standoff, the two of us just looking at each other.
Then he lunged, slicing the shard through the air.
I stepped out of the way and immediately ducked, anticipating his next swing. I stayed on the defense, letting him swing and miss time and time again, letting him drain all his energy with this uncoordinated attack.
I evaded him and moved back.
“I’m sick of your shit, Bartholomew.”
“That’s a shame, because I’m just getting started.”
His jaw clenched, and his face tinted red with anger. “You don’t deserve our loyalty. You don’t give a shit about us.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Yeah?” He stepped closer, his shirt stained with drops of beer. “Then tell me about John. Who was he?”
I didn’t understand the question. “His wife was Johanna. His son—”
“See? You have no fucking idea.”
I still didn’t understand, and I didn’t drop my guard because I knew it was probably a distraction.
“You had no fucking idea that John was my brother—because you don’t give a shit about any of us.”
I kept a straight face and hid my surprise. No, I didn’t know that, and I wasn’t sure how I’d forgotten…or maybe I’d never known. Now it all made sense, his irrational anger, his silent protests.
He lunged at me, swiping the bottle left and right.
I dodged all of the swings—except one.
He sliced me down the arm, and the blood immediately poured.
The sight of red egged him on, and he moved to land a fatal blow.
I ducked the next hit, spun around, and twisted his arm until I slammed it on the table. The bottle flew free.
He screamed and tried to evade my hold, knowing my bottle was going right for his neck.
I threw it against the wall instead, then pinned his arms back before I kicked him in the knees. He fell to the floor, and I pushed him down, getting him flat on his stomach. My boot moved to his head, a warning to keep him still. “If I didn’t give a shit about my men, you’d be bleeding out right now.”
He breathed hard against the floor, his cheek pressed into the wood.
“I want no more of this.” I pulled my boot from his head. “Your betrayal is punishable by death, but I’ll spare your life. I’m sorry that I let John die, but now we’re even. I know John would want you to accept my mercy and live your life.”
He stayed on the floor and continued to breathe hard.
I extended my hand to him.
He continued to lie there, as if struggling to accept the humiliation. Not only had I bested him, but I also had the mercy to spare him. I reminded him exactly why I was in charge, why I’d run the Chasseurs for a decade.
He finally pushed himself up but didn’t take my hand.
I withdrew the gesture. “Are we good?”
He wouldn’t look directly at me, furious.
I raised my voice. “My mercy has an expiration date, Silas.”
“Yes.” He finally met my stare. “We’re good.”
The cut was deep, so I had to get stitches from the doctor on my payroll. It was wrapped in black gauze afterward to keep the wound clean as it healed. I didn’t want Laura to see it because she would worry, but it would take at least five days before the wrap was gone, and then there would be a scar underneath—and she would notice that anyway.
I’m on my way. I never asked her permission. If she was mine, then I could be with her whenever I wished. Didn’t need to explain a damn thing.
Can’t wait to see you.
I arrived fifteen minutes later, entering her apartment without knocking, making myself right at home.