Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
“Please,” he whispers. “Please don’t kill her. I didn’t kill Halen! I just—”
“You just what?” The rage of my anger roars so close to his face that he cowers. His cheeks pale. “Raped her?” I lower my voice to a sarcastic whisper. “Stuck your dick inside of her so many times that you made her want to kill herself? Made them all fuck each other in front of your group of little fucking clowns?”
Eli clears his throat from the patio.
I step back once more, not surprised at the way I lost my shit. “An eye for an eye, maybe?”
My head turns to where Moses has her wriggling in his grip.
The begging starts, before tears stream down her cheeks and smudge what was left of her makeup. Her age is fixed into the leather of her skin, but even then, she doesn’t look as old as sore dick here.
My head bends as I follow the lines of her body. “You ever been fucked by a King?”
Another throat clear and I spin around to see Halen glaring right at me, a burnt marshmallow hovering an inch from her lips.
“Huh.” I turn back to Callihan. “Well, aren’t you lucky that my girl is the jealous kind. Moses.” I keep my eyes on the piece of shit in front of me, relishing in the sound of flesh being ripped open. There’s a short pause, before what I’m guessing are chunks of organs and bodily fluids that splatter to the ground.
Callihan’s mouth falls open as shock spreads over his face. But just like the calm to a storm, his screams are loud enough for the veins on the side of his neck to pop.
I blaze another cigarette. “Priest. The kid.”
Callihan wails, his head bowing between his shoulders. “I don’t give a shit about her.”
I nod once more, squinting around the smoke. “Cool.”
He spits. “Kill her. I don’t care. It was my Tricia who I cared for. Nothing else.”
I share a look with Vaden. The question we both want to ask ourselves seems ridiculous, but it could be true.
My fingers are around the handle of my blade as I pull it out of Callihan’s limp dick with a spray of blood. I don’t want him to pass out.
I flick the end of my knife toward the girl. “What’s your name?”
With tattoos marked over her skin and bloodstained brunette hair, her bottom lip quivers.
“Zadie. My name is Zadie, and that monster—” She coughs loudly, but blood cackles from her lungs. “Is not my father.”
“Is that true?” I ask, staring between the two.
“By blood, maybe. But I have—” She hiccups. “—not seen him in years. He has hunted me for as long as I can remember. I’ve bounced around the country to get away from him.”
Priest shifts to the boy beside her. “But that’s not true for him, though, is it? Because I know for a fact that he participated in the events at the compound.” It’s news to me. I assumed he didn’t know shit.
Zadie lifts her shoulders. “I don’t care about him. I didn’t even know I had a damn brother. I just knew that piece of shit and the bitch who birthed me!”
Priest waves his hand out and blood splatters over us all from the machete he’s holding. Moses spins the metal cuff around his fingers and back into his palm, as he makes his way back to his chair.
My blade finds the base of Callihan’s chin as I use it to lift his eyes to mine. “Vaden. See if she’s lying.”
Vaden shuffles around in the background, and I don’t have to turn around to know his fingers will be resting against her neck. He refuses to embrace his mother’s witchy side and tries to play it off as if he can tell someone is lying by how fast their pulse quickens. It’s bullshit. He’s intuitive by nature.
“Have you always been running from your father?” he asks coldly.
“Yes.” Her words are exhausted. “Ask the old man who grabbed me. I was in Spokane. Killing him will be doing me a favor.”
“Truth,” Vaden says from behind. “But I think we should still kill her. You know. To be poetic.”
Ignoring the out-of-pocket comment from the pure King, I trace the end of my knife over the angry lines of Callihan’s throat. “Priest, finish the boy.”
Priest’s eyes fly up to someone near the girls, and I shift over my shoulder to see Deacon now between River and Luna.
His head bows at Priest, and my brows lift in surprise. Well, shit. Nothing like murder for brotherly bonding.
Priest releases the leash that’s connected to the girl, dragging the boy up beside his father.
I give a swift nod to Vaden, who flips the table back upside down, before it swings down again, now with Callihan facing the patio. Pride holds the smirk to his face.