Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“I’m waiting,” I told him.
He spit more blood, staring at me, his eyes full of fear, then asked, “Wh-wh-at f-f-for?”
I was gonna have to hit him again. The rage that rolled through me as he continued not to give one fuck about Winslet when she’d worried so damn much about him was taking over. Normally, I’d have a hard time punching a guy this damn weak and small. I would put him in some form of torture device and walk away while he died slowly. This selfish bastard, however, had triggered my temper.
“What for?” I repeated. Disgust with him laced in my words.
Blood dripped off his chin still, but the gushing was done. His one eye, which wasn’t swollen closed yet but hurt enough that he could only squint, widened some with confusion. Motherfucker was going to cause me to punch him to death. Which honestly wouldn’t take that much.
Stalking back over to get in his face, I lowered my head to look him dead in the eye. He winced but stood still as he prepared for whatever I was about to do next.
“For you to ask about your sister, you fucking piece of shit,” I snarled, fisting my hands to keep from grabbing his head and snapping his neck.
That would not go over well with the boss. If I did kill him, it was likely I’d follow this bitch to hell shortly after. Blaise Hughes wasn’t someone you disobeyed.
“Winzy?” He said it like a question. As if she were the last thing on his mind.
My hand shot out, and I grabbed him by the throat and squeezed hard as his one open eye bulged.
“Easy,” Linc barked.
I let go of him, shoving him backward so that he swung, while I took long strides away from him before I wrote my death sentence. My hate-filled eyes shifted to Linc. The way he studied me, as if he wasn’t sure what was wrong with me, didn’t help the fury that continued to build.
Taking the knife lying on the shelf where it was kept, I spun back to look at the man. “Yes,” I said, feeling on the verge of feral.
“Wh-what about her? You let her go. He”—his beaten face turned in Linc’s direction—“said she was back at her apartment.”
Clamping the cigarette between my teeth, I didn’t take my eyes off him when I asked Linc, “Did you tell him because he’d asked or because you thought he wanted to know?” If it was the former, then some of this rage might ease.
“I thought he’d want to know.”
Perry’s face moved back until he was looking at me again. He then eyed the blade in my hand.
“She worried about you. Asked about you. Was fucking terrified that we’d kill you,” I told him. “Yet you knew we had taken her. I had taken her, and you did nothing to save her.”
He gulped again. “She was innocent. I knew you wouldn’t hurt an innocent woman.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You knew?” I asked. “Did you know who we were? Who had taken her? Who you had stolen from?”
He said nothing as his body shook and his bloodied bottom lip wobbled. “Yes.” His one word no more than a whisper.
Taking the tip of the blade, I ran it down his cheek slowly. He closed his eyes, breathing fast and quick.
“And you thought that the Mafia had morals? That we wouldn’t harm a female?”
His breath hissed as I broke the skin over his bottom lip and opened it for him, watching it ooze red.
“TELL ME!” I roared when he didn’t respond.
“I knew,” he said, struggling to talk with his damaged lip, “you wouldn’t hurt her because of the way she looked.”
My brows drew together. “You bargained your sister’s life on her pretty face saving her? Did you consider that one of us could have taken that hot little body and raped her?” The thought of anyone doing that, however, did not help my current state of mind. It only pushed me closer to the crazy line.
He said nothing.
I sliced down his other cheek in one violent strike, which caused him to cry out and jerk against the ropes.
“DID YOU?” I shouted in his face.
He closed his eyes, and a tear rolled down, turning pink, mixing with the blood, then finally a watery red as it fell from his chin. “Possibly.”
If I hadn’t been so close to him, I wouldn’t have heard it.
The tremor that coursed through me made everything around me begin to slowly fade as my vison tunneled. Some lethal beast broke free inside me with a slaughterous craving as I raised my hand that held the knife.
I heard something in the background, but I didn’t care. Every thump of my heart urged me to take his life. Pulverize him until he was no longer recognizable. He didn’t deserve the lungs in his chest that allowed him to breathe. I could cut him open and take them out with my bare hands.