Total pages in book: 8
Estimated words: 7625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 38(@200wpm)___ 31(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 7625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 38(@200wpm)___ 31(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
That was the only thought that gave me the strength to let this bastard pull me onto his lap, straddling him and his waiting cock.
“I’m tired,” I slurred.
“Too bad,” he said, his hands roaming down my back.
“Too bad,” I repeated as my hand went for my knife in my garter. I flicked it open, pulled it up, and jammed it into his throat before he could even tell what was happening. “Yeah, it is too fucking bad you took my man. Now you all have to die,” I said as his blood spurted, getting on my neck, in my hair, all over my hands while he held his neck and gasped for air as his throat filled with the taste of his own blood.
Bear taught me how to kill a man quickly, quietly, and easily, no extra strength needed.
Just a knife sunk in at just the right spot.
A couple seconds.
And death.
I owed that man everything.
And I would take every life that stood in the way of showing him how much I didn’t take him for granted.
I didn’t waste any time after the president slumped back, eyes open even in death. I hopped up, dropped the bloody knife into my bag, dried my hand off on my clothes, then headed back out into the common room.
The guy from before was out cold with his drinks and drugs, and there was a second of pity in me before I remembered that even if he hadn’t participated in Bear’s torture, he was complicit in it.
He had to die too.
I grabbed for the gun with the silencer instead of the knife, pressed it to his forehead, and pulled the trigger.
Adrenaline thrumming through my system, I made my way back to the other room in the back, finding another guy passed out on his stomach, an arm holding a whiskey bottle that had emptied all over the floor.
I didn’t want a fight.
I wanted it over.
I wanted my man.
So, I moved in slowly, put the gun to the back of his head, and pulled.
Three down.
Three or more to go in the basement.
I took one extra moment to kick out of my shoes, not wanting to announce my presence before it was absolutely necessary.
I wouldn’t be able to pull the drunk-girl schtick again, not covered in the blood of their president.
So, I just had to be faster, smarter, better than all of them.
I slid open the door, checking out the vantage point as I grabbed the gun out of my bag, holding onto it like a lifeline. Because that was exactly what it was.
For me.
For Bear.
As if reading my thoughts, I heard a loud whack followed by a pained groan.
Bear.
Any sense of restraint or caution flew out the damn window as I rushed down the narrow stairs in my bare feet, the sounds deafening to my own ears, but seemingly drowned out by the music from above still because no one turned to look at me.
Not until my finger found the trigger, and I started filling the first body with bullets.
Only then did everyone turn.
Including Bear, his swollen, bruised, bloodied eyes widening at the sight of me as I took down one of the guys, then the next.
“Fucking bitch!” one of the others yelled as he ducked down and reached for his own gun.
He didn’t get much of a chance, though. Because before he even got the thing out of his waistband, his body was jolting and blood was blooming through his white tee.
One more to go.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he hissed, but I didn’t see him for a second. Not until I looked at Bear and saw another set of legs behind him.
Fucking coward.
Hiding behind a man who couldn’t protect himself.
“Put the fucking gun down, or I slit his fucking throat,” he growled, and I saw the flash of metal as it hovered in front of Bear’s throat.
Bear’s body thrashed hard, trying to knock the guy away.
“I said put it down!” he yelled, making the point of the knife nip into Bear’s skin, a bead of red forming on the blade.
He was too close.
And it was too easy to take someone’s life like that.
I’d know.
I’d just done it to that bastard’s president.
“Okay. Okay,” I said, wanting to have my tone be soothing and compliant, but I needed to yell over the music from upstairs.
Both my arms went up, and I folded forward to put the gun on the floor.
“Kick it away,” he said unnecessarily since I was already doing it. “Toss the bag too,” he added.
In front of me, Bear was shaking his head, was silently pleading with me not to do it.
He didn’t need to speak.
I knew exactly what he was thinking.
Don’t do this. Go, save yourself.
Which was exactly why he was a man worth saving, worth fighting for.
Even without most of my weapons.