Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“How did it feel walking into your home only to find the blood of your family staining the floors? Is it strange to live there now?”
Fuck.
“But you don’t live there,” he continues when I don’t react. “I’m sure your brother and his family are relieved at that. The son of their family’s killer sharing their roof, their table, it would be too much for anyone to bear.”
“Tell me something, does your wife know you like to fuck fifteen-year-old girls? I hear your boy doesn’t seem to mind. Like father like son?”
He’s not upset by this. I didn’t expect him to be. “You know you really should be thanking me.”
“And why is that?”
“If it weren’t for me just think of all the men who would have used her all those years.”
I force myself to breathe. To not react.
“I paid for her virginity. And oh my, was it worth it.” He grins. Self-satisfied prick.
“Fuck you. How’s that for a thanks?”
His grin vanishes. “You’re wasting my time. Where is she?” His tone is sharp, eyes dead.
“Somewhere you won’t find her.”
“I have eyes and ears everywhere.”
“You’re not getting her back, Petrov. Ever.”
“I’m sure she misses me. Misses my hands on her. And I miss her, too. Miss the way she called my name when she came.”
My hands fist in my lap.
He grins, leans toward me. “She tastes wonderful. Have you had a taste yet? Something about eating a young, virgin pussy.”
I grit my teeth, force myself to regulate my breath.
“Tell me have you felt her tight cunt squeeze your dick yet? Or hear her screams when you take her ass?”
I lean toward him too because this is what I want. What I need for this to work. I slide my bound hands along the underside of the table. Feel the edge of the tape. The tip of the blade pointing toward Petrov’s gut. Charlie’s contact knew which seat he’d be in.
“She has a set of lungs on her, that girl,” he continues, smiling now, showing teeth that are too small for his fat head spaced too far apart from each other. “I wonder if you’ll scream as loud when we cut you into a hundred little pieces before I put you out of your misery.”
I close my hand around the hilt, peel it from the table slowly so the duct tape doesn’t make a sound. I’ll have one shot at this. And I may still die. It depends on how fast he dies. How quick his soldiers are. One of them has his back turned. He’s rearranging the tools of my eventual torture.
“Now my son, he had a special preference for her mouth. I told him it was risky. I never did manage to break her spirit completely.”
“Tell me, do you think she even felt your dick? Rumor has it it’s, well, smaller than expected for a man your size,” I say, not that I have a clue. I lean forward some more, gripping the knife hard. It’s shorter than I’d like but it’ll have to do.
He puts his hands on the table, neck and face growing red with anger.
Hell. I’ve hit a nerve. Maybe it’s the truth after all.
“That’s about the size,” I gesture to his hands. He looks down at them. “The pinkie.” I grin, extending my arms as far as they’ll go beneath the table, grateful for his gut being the size it is. “Length and width I hear.” This last part I say in a lowered voice, so he leans toward me to hear. It’s just enough.
He doesn’t even have a chance to answer as the knife slides into his gut like it’s cutting through butter. The blade is short, but very sharp.
There’s a momentary pause, a grunt that only I hear. He blinks, shifts his gaze back to mine, a look of surprise on his face.
“Is that right?” I ask, drawing the knife up a little, watching his eyes widen. “Size of your pinkie would you say?”
A line of blood forms on the corner of his mouth and I pull the knife out, letting it fall to the floor as I shoot to my feet, turning the table over so it lands on its side between me and the two at the counter. In one step I’m behind Petrov wrapping bound arms around his neck and drawing his pistol from its shoulder holster.
Over the crashing of the table comes the cocking of guns and I duck behind Petrov, his bulk shielding me as I shoot one of the guards. He goes down as his gun goes off, missing both me and Petrov. I have the advantage of surprise. They didn’t expect this.
The second one is next, the butcher’s knife in his hand will do him no good now as his eyes widen in surprise and I pull the trigger, sending the bullet into his stomach before I turn to the one holding Petrov’s coat.