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)
“You have about two seconds to run, Raphael,” War says tonelessly. “I may have never seen your face, but mark my words, I always know when you’re near.”
I sidestep away from him to see if I can get a better look at who this guy is, but War’s hand flies out to stop me.
“I’m not here for a fight.” The guy surrenders and I finally break away from War to see who he is, but he counters my step once more.
Goddamn wall of muscle.
“I’ve come to warn you all.”
“About what?” War hisses. Anger flows from his body in searing waves of lava.
“We don’t much like to be pushed out of our turf, War…” he singsongs.
“Motherfucker, you—" War growls, stepping forward. As soon as he does, Raphael steps back, raising his arms. I finally catch a peek. Dressed in white from head to toe, his face is covered by a pastel-colored mask. “You have ten seconds to run before I gut you alive and send you back to your owner in liquid form.”
“Ah… the true EKC threats. I’ve got to admit, they’re not nearly as colorful as I would have hoped.”
He goes to turn back when War’s next words stop him. “Three hundred degrees.” Raphael’s—or whoever’s—shoulders stiffen. “Three hundred degrees, a special little concoction named lye solution, and your ass is simple syrup. Your owner will love that. Add some moisture into his creations…” I shudder as the air blows over my skin.
Raphael shoots off through the forest, and as soon as he’s gone the pain in my side returns.
I fall backward, hissing through the sting. Blood seeps between my fingers and War catches me swiftly, sweeping me up by the back of my thighs and lifting me off the ground.
“I’m only letting you carry me because I don’t think I can feel my legs.” His cologne is a blend of cedar and bergamot. Like walking through the doors of your favorite place. Familiar. Safe.
My head falls against his shoulder as everything fades away.
Halen
My vision blurs and anytime I try to focus on an object, it only makes it worse. The room blends to a smudged color palette behind a pool of tears as I try to push up from the soft surface I’m lying on.
A hand is on my chest, forcing me back down.
“I thought you said it was just a cut…”
“It was.” War’s tone is hard.
“If it was just a cut, why is she so fucked up?” Priest hisses from somewhere.
I force my eyes open, reaching up and scrubbing them with the palm of my hands.
“I’m fine!” I grumble, crawling up the bed and leaning against the headboard. “And War drugged me.”
I look to my brother. His eyes narrow as they fly between us. I haven’t even registered where I am yet. The ground is uneven and slowly the room comes into focus.
I’m on the fucking 747.
Priest closes his eyes for a second, nostrils flaring as the tension leaves his muscles. “Could have been worse and at least it knocked you out for a few hours.”
But— “Wait.” I shove the white woolen blanket off my body. “Why are we on Riddler?” We only ever use this plane if we’re going away for family vacations because of the sheer size of it.
The door behind War closes and he chuckles, shaking his head while lowering himself down onto the mattress of the bed. I force myself to move away from him because no matter how much I try, I can’t not be angry with him. He does too many things to piss me off.
Like for one—whatever happened last night. It isn’t the drugging, no. I’m not precious and I don’t care. I know that it wasn’t the intention to harm me, so it’s not that.
My step falters when turbulence shakes the plane. “I know you all. Why are we on Riddler? We only use this for vacations.”
The door closes opposite and Vaden slowly lowers himself into the chair in the corner of the room while holding a glass of whiskey. Riddler had been gutted and restructured in design to match our private jet. There are bedrooms upstairs, the biggest one being the room I woke up in.
“Halen, you wanted in, so this is what’s going to happen going forward.” Priest’s monotone voice is one of his many red flags.
“You say it like I had a choice, Priest…” I say softly, and I instantly hate that I sounded so weak. I didn’t want to be weak. Especially not in front of the very men that have always made me feel that way because of just how insane they are.
He ignores me. “Correct. So here’s what you need to know going forward. All of what happened last night, was a retaliation from a rival group.”
“The Gentlemen?” I blurt the first one that comes to mind.