Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
As soon as his bindings and gag are removed, Max darts a quick look to the door. Cove stands in front of it, arms crossed over his chest, looking impressively formidable. I’m fascinated by the fact that Cove is smaller than me but doesn’t cower like most people do. It’s like…he wants to fight with the dragon.
“Time to talk,” I say, pulling out my Chris Reeve Green Beret combat knife from its sheath on my belt. I squat beside the filthy mattress. “That is, while you still have a tongue.”
Max’s eyes widen in comical horror. He has no idea all the clever ways I can prolong his torture. I once peeled all the skin off a man’s feet when we needed information. He howled the worst when I carved around his ankle bones. Fucker passed out by the time I made it up past his knees. Max must sense the violence thrumming through me because he scrambles backward as though his escape is something attainable.
He’s never leaving this property. His bones will turn to ash in the slaughterhouse firepit long after I’ve stolen every last scream he has in him.
“Reno.” I grin viciously at him. “You heard of Loki and his crew?”
He pales and shakes his head. “N-No, man. You got the wrong guy.”
Katana lets out an amused snort. “Right.”
“No, Corsetti, we have the right man. If you can even call yourself that. Soon, you’ll be pissing your panties like a little bitch with nightmares.” I swipe the smile off my face, replacing it with something far more sinister. “Spoiler alert: I’m the nightmare.”
Max rises to his feet, still backing away from me. He won’t get far. Three against one. His odds are impossible.
“W-What do y-you want from me? Is this about Truly?”
I don’t know who the fuck Truly is, so I shrug. “This is about you fucking over Loki and his brothers. We both know you know exactly what you did.”
“You want money? I have it. Lots of it.” Max’s gaze drifts to the door again. “Whatever you want.”
“K, do I give a fuck about money?”
“Nope,” Katana says. “You do like your boat, though.”
“It’s a bitchin’ boat.”
“Please,” Max begs. “Whatever you want. It’s yours.”
“Answers, Corsetti. I want answers. Where were you headed to?”
He nods up and down in such vehemence, it reminds me of a cartoon character. “East. Tennessee.”
That fucking state is a trigger word for me. Fury bubbles inside me, deep in my gut, and spreads like a contagion. I prowl toward Max, who’s trying desperately to put distance between us.
He won’t get away.
They never do.
“Do tell. What’s in Tennessee for you?”
He swallows, taking another step back. “Just a place to lie low.”
“Who was your contact there?” I stalk his every movement, matching each step with one of my own. “I want names or I will start cutting off body parts until you squeal.”
“Fuck, dude, you don’t have to use your knife. I said I’d tell you what you want to know.” He holds up both palms in defense. “Jesus. Chill.”
“Name.”
“It’s this guy my dad knows.”
“I want a name,” I growl.
“I don’t know his real name, just the alias he gave m—”
I throw the knife hard and it embeds itself in his palm. He lets out a pained shriek. Blood gushes from the wound, running down his forearm and dripping from his elbow.
“You have two choices,” I bite out, sliding another knife from my belt. “You can pull it out and try to defend yourself, but that’s going to hurt like a bitch the second you remove it. What’s the second choice, K?”
“Give you the name and shut the fuck up.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Max hisses, his entire body trembling. “I’ll tell you, man. Just keep your knife over there.”
“Baby Prospect,” I call out over my shoulder. “Bring me my knife.”
Cove lets out an annoyed sigh, but he stomps over to us, passing by me to get to Corsetti. Max shakes his head at Cove, trying to keep him back, but Cove is quick. He yanks the knife out of Max’s hand with no warning.
“Fuuuuck,” Max bellows, clutching his palm to his chest. The blood quickly soaks the front of his shirt.
“Three. Two. One—”
“I already told you what I know, man. The name he gave me is Victor. Victor, uh, Knight. There. A last name. Are you fucking happy? That’s who I was going to see.”
Cove glances my way, an eyebrow arched in question. My eyes drop to his soft lips. He’s a damn distraction.
“What’s this Victor prick in the business of? If he’s willing to take you in, he must be a piece of shit.” I take a threatening step toward them. “Tick-tock, Corsetti.”
Cove’s body tenses as I prowl closer. When I made my promise to find him later, I didn’t think it through much. All I know is I need him beneath me. I want to inhale him and taste him and feel him.