Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“Fine,” I yell, and adjust my hold on the knife, my clammy palm making it problematic to get a good grip. I hide it at my side, hoping to use the element of surprise to my advantage. “I'll come out. Just please, don't hurt Callum. Promise me.”
“I promise.” He can't even be bothered to sound serious. “He'll be fine. Just come with me, and all of this will end.”
You can do this. You're strong.
I suck a shaky breath into my lungs. “Okay.”
Callum reaches for me, however it's a failed attempt at stopping me when I gently but firmly push his hand away from my leg. There is a very good chance this could end badly, but it's my only hope. I've never fired a gun in my life, and I wouldn't trust myself to do it now, but a knife? That's a different story.
With the knife hidden behind my back, I step around the corner. No going back now. Dominic is only a few feet away, and when he spots me, he lowers his gun. “See? Things are so much easier when we work together as a team.”
“Please… don't hurt him.” I take a small, tentative step toward him. I have to play the damsel in distress. Let him see my fear, and weakness.
“If I kill him, we get nothing. You're what we want.” With the agility of a snake, he strikes, his hand wrapping around my forearm and pulling me close.
Close enough for me to sink the knife deep into his stomach, which is precisely what I do. Without blinking or thinking too much about it, I tighten my hold on the butt of the knife and put every ounce of pain and anger into thrusting the knife right into the soft flesh of his stomach.
At first, he doesn't even notice a smile still sitting triumphantly on his face. It doesn't take long for surprise and shock to cross his features. Most likely finally feeling the pain, he looks down to find the handle of the knife jutting out of him. It's my turn to smile, and I do so when pulling the knife from his stomach. Just as quickly as the first time, I stab him again, ignoring the blood that seeps onto my hands.
“What the fuck?” The gun drops to the floor and he stumbles backwards, placing a hand on his stomach. Blood starts to absorb into the fabric of his t-shirt and he looks at it with disbelief. “You… you fucking bitch!!” he growls, and I reach for the gun, picking it up with my bloody-trembling hands.
I turn it on him and put my finger near the trigger. I've never shot a gun before or have even considered killing someone, but I now understand why Callum did what he did. There was never a time when I wouldn't do what I needed to protect those I loved.
“Fuck you,” I whisper through gritted teeth, watching him slide down the wall at his back, his hand wrapped around the knife. “You take one step towards me and I'll blow your fucking head off.”
His shirt soaks up the blood like a sponge, a bloody smear following him as he slides down the wall. Running on adrenaline alone, I walk slowly back towards Callum.
“You'll pay for this!!” he snarls, his features twisting in pain. I ignore the threat and slip back around the corner.
CALLUM
It's the ultimate torture, sitting helplessly against the wall while blood runs out of you and everything goes quiet. The acrid odor of gunpowder fills my nostrils—that, and the coppery smell of blood. Gunshots ring out on the other end of the basement, and someone, somewhere, moans in pain. The sounds overlap until I'm sure my skull will crack.
“Bianca,” I whisper, but my voice is lost in the chaos echoing through the halls between rows of rooms like the one I just pulled her from. Seconds stretch out until they feel like hours, and every pump of my heart means more blood loss, but all I care about is her.
What did she do? Where did she go?
I lean over, wincing as I stretch, and finally close my fingers around my Glock, pulling it closer. Fuck this. I'm not waiting for him to kill her. She needs me, and I'd rather die protecting her than against this fucking wall. I'm halfway to my feet when all at once, my little bird appears in front of me. She's wide-eyed, her entire body trembling. Relief takes the strength out of my legs for a heartbeat, making me lean against the cinder block wall for support.
"What—”
She shakes her head, wrapping an arm around mine. “Dominic's down, but he's not dead. Just wounded. We need to move quickly.”
She's right. We should move, get out of here, and never look back. I have what I came here for, and she's in one piece. That needs to be enough, but somehow, it's not. Maybe it's because I read some of the messages he sent one of my crew detailing what he and his father planned to do with Bianca that makes me thirsty for revenge. How they were going to use her to milk me dry and convince me to sign over most of my businesses before either killing her or waiting for the baby's birth before selling them both on the black market.