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)
She breathes out a shaky breath and the chair jerks from someone in the back.
“Stella. I’m gonna fuck you up,” I deadpan. “Keep whatever secret you all think you need to. The ritual is this weekend, so either way and by oath, we’re gonna know the full story before Monday. Play as you will and we’ll entertain it for now, children.”
I flash Priest a dark smirk.
He settles back on the road, driving us forward. I rest back in the chair, closing my eyes as my heart slows to a harmonic pace.
It doesn’t matter. Whoever it is or was, they are dead. There’s comfort in knowing that you can skin a human alive with your bare hands, and whoever is left of the ones who crossed paths with any of the girls are about to get a package gruesome enough to turn them vegan.
I reach between Priest and Vaden. “Tell me what happened tonight.”
“I may have started a war…”
Halen
Three hours earlier
My heart races at a merciless pace. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until my head spins fast enough to make my palms prickle.
“Do I look familiar to you, young one?” He flashes a gold-toothed grin.
My mouth dries and white noise rings through my ears as panic rises in my throat.
“Why are you here?” The weight of my anxiety holds me in place as I glance up to the rearview mirror to find River and Stella. I need to make sure they’re safe.
“Oh, now where would the fun in that be if I told you?” I keep my eyes locked on the road ahead. I hate that I can’t seem to find the words I want to say to him, as if choked by fear.
I clear my throat, fighting the tears that prick the corners of my eyes. As a Hayes, I don’t have the luxury to expose an emotion as fragile as fear.
“You look like him.” It’s a hoarse whisper, a telltale sign of the pain it caused to say it.
He chuckles and acid burns the back of my throat. “I guess that’s because he’s my father.”
His engine opens up and I blink once more to help my blurring vision. I’ve never lost a race, but I am willing to throw in this one.
The world slows around me as a shirtless guy wearing a Ghost Face mask walks between our two cars, grabbing at his crotch. He pulls out a gat from each pocket and raises them both in the air. When they pop off, I bite down on the inside of my cheek. The emotional barrier I’d been trained to feed materializes in front of me as I slam the gear into first and floor it forward.
Pain.
Regret.
Anger.
Pain.
My car shoots forward as I short shift into gears. The buildings cave around me, but driving is a natural skill for me, so I drop down into second and tear up the brakes, drifting around the first corner I see. The map on my dash displays a perfect loop that continues through a few town streets, before rounding to the back of the park. I have no idea what kind of state the park itself is in, but I’m thinking we dodge and dip, before swerving around people and their cars, and skidding back to the starting line.
I correct the drift before flooring it forward again. The Honda wouldn’t have a chance, even with a DOHC VTEC, but I can hear that whatever is under the hood, isn’t that. Sounds more like an SR engine or 2JZ.
My jaw tenses as I slide around the final bend before we hit a straight. The speedometer strokes two hundred, and my eyes fly between the dash and to my left. Where the fuck is the back entrance? There has to be one here.
My engine cackles when the rear tires lock and I slide through the chain that hangs across the back entrance.
I zip past withered old rides, a haunted fun house, and a carousel with headless horses and unicorns. Hooking the steering to dodge an old food truck, I reach into the side of my door, turning the steering until I’ve swung front on with his car.
I slide the mag release over my thigh before hitting my window down.
His eyes widen and his smirk falls when he realizes he misread me. I’m a product of the Elite Kings, and we don’t cower to our fear, we shoot it between the eyes and call it a win.
I lift my hand out the window with my index finger on the trigger, before emptying the clip into his skull. Blood explodes from his forehead as his car skids sideways before flipping four times and landing at the base of the Ferris wheel.
I slam on the brakes, my heart galloping in my chest. I’ve never taken a life before. Not ever. I’ve seen dead bodies and people die, but never at my own hands. I fucked up. In the haze of my rage, I was blinded by the hunger for vengeance. It was his son. I just dipped the igniter to a war in gasoline. One that will not only leave a trail of death in its path, but unearth old skeletons that had been buried for years.