Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 140896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Jeremy is the only one who seems grounded enough as he says, “He fought with Landon.”
My heart jolts so hard, I have to swallow a few times to catch my breath.
“Who invited the other?” I sign.
“Landon,” Jeremy says. “He sent the four of us texts, inviting us to watch him make a fool out of Niko.”
That motherfucker.
That’s why Kill and Niko abandoned the dinner without a backward glance.
How dare he ruin my dinner with my family? To beat up my brother, no less?
I stand in front of Nikolai and force him to look at me. “Did you lose to the bastard?”
“I beat him to within an inch of his life.”
“Good,” I sign, and yet a strange spark of pain slithers its way to my heart.
“He only won…” Killian applies ointment without practicing any form of gentleness. “Because Landon forfeited.”
“I would’ve won anyway,” Niko growls. “You’ve seen how I used him as my punching bag.”
“Then you let him go because someone happened to shout for you to stop.” Killian clicks his tongue at him.
My brother’s hands ball into fists and he fishes in his pants for a cigarette, then jams it between his lips. “Temporary lapse of judgment.”
“Was the parking lot also a temporary lapse of judgment?” It’s Jeremy who asks. “We had him in our claws and could’ve buried him alive then and there, but you chose to let him go.”
“You also let him go.” My brother points his cigarette at Killian, who’s finished cleaning the blood. “And you, too, motherfucker.”
“I’d love nothing more than to cut him to pieces and use his body as my forensic practice, but there’s a small problem.” Kill slams the first aid box shut. “He’s Glyn’s brother, and no matter how much she says she doesn’t get along with him, she worries about him and never stopped seeing him as her brother. I’d rather the mosquito stays alive, as annoying as he is, instead of risking losing her. Besides, he’s never satisfied with the lengths he goes to or the chaos he inflicts. In order to keep the same level of entertainment, he has no choice but to increase his diabolical plans. He can’t possibly get away with it for eternity and will eventually self-destruct. When that happens, I’ll make sure to offer Glyn a shoulder to cry on.”
“Kill is right.” Jeremy runs a hand over his face. “I’d love to punch him to death, but the better choice is to watch him dig his own grave. Maybe even help him dig faster without being directly involved in his demise.”
I stare between them as the ache in my heart blossoms and spreads throughout my chest. What is this all about?
Why am I completely taken aback by their animosity toward Lan, when I shared it until recently?
My lips part as the weight of my own words crashes against my chest.
The keyword being shared. Past tense.
Not too long ago, I hated Lan with a passion and personally orchestrated his downfall. Hell, I went on that spying mission for Jeremy so I could participate in Landon’s destruction.
And yet that plan has morphed into something carnal and utterly unrecognizable. It’s a haze of dangerous lust and intense desire. A red mist that I can only see him through.
I still hate the bastard’s guts, but I can’t seem to come down from the high he knows how to drag out of me so well.
What am I supposed to do in this situation? It’s only a matter of time before he targets my family or they target him. There’s just too much bad blood to ignore.
When that happens, I’ll be stuck in the middle and will be forced to break this new version of myself into irreparable pieces.
“Fuck that.” Nikolai kills his cigarette on one of the dirty gauzes. A black and orange hole forms in the middle before it’s smothered by the blood. “I’m going to kill that bastard. I don’t care how, but his life is mine.”
No, it’s mine.
I catch myself before I sign that. Thankfully, Nikolai goes up the stairs, not bothering to say good night.
He’s in a foul mood, worse than when he’s on one of his usual bursts of violence.
“You’re welcome,” Kill shouts at his back and gets a half-hearted wave from my brother.
“You need to keep him in check,” I sign to Jeremy. “No one knows what he’ll do when he’s in that state.”
“I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything.” He pauses as if trying to weigh his words. “How should I put it…? On the way back, he crashed his bike against a tree.”
My lips part.
Kill circles his index finger near his temple. “He’s going whacko.”
“And it’ll only get worse,” Jeremy supplies.
After years of constant observation, he, of all people, recognizes Niko’s off mode more than anyone else. Usually, he’s able to put the brakes on it or propel Niko into diluting his intense mania.