Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
"Morning," he mutters.
"What are you doing here?" I grumble.
"Your wife is driving me crazy," he says. "We need to talk, Uncle. Have you made your decision?"
"Yes," I grit out. "I'll see Xander. By myself."
"By yourself?" My nephew roars with laughter. "You really do have a death wish. You need help, Xavier. And I can help you. But you must pay the price."
"Never," I say. "You're not having our kids. Figure something else out."
"Maybe I have," he says darkly.
"Oh?" I get up and grip the bars, glaring at him. "And what's that?"
"An eye for an eye, Uncle," he laughs.
"I'm listening."
He smirks, pulling out a knife from his pocket and thoughtfully admiring its serrated edge.
"Do you know that the saying an eye for an eye is widely misunderstood?" he asks as the blade glints under the florescent lighting.
"Enlighten me," I growl.
"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind," he recites, his voice laced with contempt. "It's a lie. Because an eye for an eye isn't a punishment, it's an incentive."
"What are you getting at?"
"I'll give you time to say goodbye to your wife, but then, Uncle, it's your choice. Go to Xander alone and die alone... Or return to your wife in one piece." He chuckles. "Well. Mostly."
"You're not cutting out my fucking eye," I hiss.
"Maybe. Or maybe not. It depends how much your life is worth."
"Why can't you just accept my choice and be done with it?"
"Because I've heard things about Xander," Heath says slowly. "He's a monster. If you go see him, you'll be dead before dawn. He'll kill you, Xavier. And then he'll come after my child. Tallulah is innocent."
"Not anymore," I remind him. "You made her into a trained killer."
"She's good, isn't she?" Heath laughs. "Did she tell you about all the people she killed? She's an angel of death."
"I'm not going to discuss this with you," I grunt, turning away.
"Suit yourself," he shrugs. "But you know, it's true. I have the footage. I'll send it to you. Just think, Uncle. You can watch your wife kill innocent people. Or you can agree to my terms, and save you both."
I stare at him. "Why are you so intent on punishing me? I gave you everything you wanted."
"Are you fucking kidding, pendejo?" he snarls. "You tortured me. Left me for dead in an underground fighting ring, where I was pumped full of drugs that altered my mind and nearly killed me. Do you have any idea what that did to me? The years of recovery? The nightmares? The pain? No, Uncle, you haven't given me everything I wanted. So, now I'm taking it."
"Heath..."
"Don't try to justify what you did, because you can't," he growls. "So don't."
I turn away, not wanting him to see the pain etched on my face. I remember my nephew as a kid. Soft, pliable. A walking target.
"I had to toughen you up," I say. "It's why I took you."
"You jailed me and you fucked with my mind, and you made me into something I never wanted to be."
"You're just as bad as me," I growl.
"No," Heath spits. "You tried to make me that way. But it didn't work, did it? I haven't grown into the monster you tried to make me, despite your best efforts."
"Yet you're taking a page out of my book now," I say, a hint of pride sneaking into my voice.
"I've learned from the best," he shrugs. "So what will it be, Xavier? Your eye... or your life?"
"Thank you for joining me," my nephew smirks as I'm led into his study in shackles.
"Not that I had much of a choice," I hiss.
"You did," he reminds me. "You chose this."
He beckons me with his finger and I roll my eyes, but Liberato shoves me forward, and I follow, sitting down across from him.
"I'll free you," Heath says. "But only if you do exactly as I say. Agreed?"
"No," I hiss.
He laughs out loud. "So feisty. That's why I like you, Uncle. You're crazy. But not as crazy as I am."
"No," I repeat. "I'm not signing over my life to you."
"Then I guess Tallulah will never be freed."
"Why are you doing this?" I ask. "Is it really all about revenge? Because you think I mistreated you?"
"You did mistreat me," he growls. "You were cruel. Sadistic. You tried to mold me into a killer. And you almost succeeded."
"Almost."
"I have no desire to be a monster like you," he hisses. "But I will allow myself this little indulgence."
He points to a glass jar on his desk, and I follow his gaze to it. Clear liquid fills the glass. I don't need to ask what it's for.
"When's the surgery?" I ask coolly.
"Oh, I changed my mind about that," he smirks. "No surgery."
"How else are you going to remove my fucking eye?" I hiss.
"With this," he says, pointing at a needle.