Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
It was the craziest sensation to be happy and sad all at the same time.
“Down came the rain…” I sliced across his chest. “And washed the spider out…”
“Sloan…” he choked out, falling forward, but I pushed his back against the wall to hold him up.
“Out came the sun and dried up all the rain…” I slid a small hole in his neck. “And the itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the wall again.” Slowly, I slid the knife across his throat, taking my time to watch the blood seep out. “I hope you rot in hell.”
He was dying a slow death, trying to take his last breath.
“Now this,” I acknowledged. “This is for my mother.” Holding the knife, I backhandedly dug the blade into his heart and twisted it, sucking the life right out of him.
He wheezed.
He coughed.
He choked.
As he began gurgling, his eyes started shutting, and I held them open for him. I needed the last thing he saw before he died was my face.
Until finally, he stopped breathing.
Stopped moving.
Stopped living.
And I sat there for I don’t know how long, just wanting to engrain every last inch of him in my mind. Silently praying, I’d be free of him. The memories would always be a part of me, but maybe, just maybe…
I could lay them to rest.
I considered the future I didn’t have until this very moment, trying to bury the past with his body.
I waited.
Every touch.
Every look.
Every bruise.
Every “I love you” from his tainted lips died here with him, and I took refuge in that.
Without thinking twice about it, I ripped the knife out of his heart and stood. Stopping dead in my tracks when all three of them stared at me with extremely disturbed expressions.
“Okay, Rosemary’s Baby,” X exclaimed. “What the fuck, you serial killer… That was some straight-up Carrie shit with the singing. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I chuckled; I couldn’t help it. Lifting the knife out in front of me, I added, “This is my souvenir.” I looked at the blade, arching an eyebrow. “I may even let his blood dry on it.”
Nav slapped Luke’s chest. “This your influence on her? Jesus, don’t piss her off unless you want to sleep with one eye open.”
Luke grinned, winking at me. “Good girl.”
My stomach did that tumbling thing, and I smiled. Placing the knife at my side, I walked to Luke to have him lean on me so we could get the hell out of this place.
On our way out, I turned at the last second.
Looking around his office and then at the floor where my mother was murdered, I swear I faintly saw her appear out of thin air with a proud expression on her loving face, but I blinked, and she was gone. Making me imagine I hallucinated it.
And again, maybe I had…
But it didn’t matter because the four of us left that house that day with three things in common.
Revenge in our blood.
Freedom in our hearts.And peace in our souls.
CHAPTER
FORTY-TWO
SLOAN
“Stop fidgetin’,” he ordered, sitting next to me on his private plane.
“I can’t help it. I’m nervous.”
So much had happened in the last few weeks of our lives. Completely going off the grid after everything that happened which we really hadn’t discussed. All three of them agreed they took care of everything, and I learned of the fallout on the news like the rest of the world.
Except the story that was told was a much different narrative than the truth itself. Luke turned in all the evidence I collected over the years. To the world, he was a hero.
But to me, he was mine.
I was still afraid of what his enemies might do in retaliation for technically being a traitor. However, he didn’t betray anyone other than my father, and it wasn’t like he was loved by many. Mostly, he was feared by all. My brothers had nothing to do with it other than staging the scene of the crime and making it look like it was just a Mafia war.
After they found my mom’s and several other skeletons buried on the property, it didn’t take much convincing otherwise. I didn’t ask questions; all I knew was that it was over.
And the rest was history…
I’d been staying at Luke’s place in Miami, sleeping in his arms every night. We spent a lot of time together, but he’d yet to touch me again. I’d initiate it, and he kept turning me down, telling me all he wanted was to hold me.
It was frustrating and confusing and… overwhelming all at once.
We didn’t talk about the future or where our relationship was going, if we even had one. It was kind of like we were close friends who actually just slept together.
“Hey,” he pointed out. “What are you thinkin’ about over there?”
“Well, for starters, how did you convince me to go home with you again? Oak Island, North Carolina. Can’t say I’ve ever been there.”