Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 176345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 882(@200wpm)___ 705(@250wpm)___ 588(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 882(@200wpm)___ 705(@250wpm)___ 588(@300wpm)
I head toward the door clutching my backpack filled with tools and weapons.
My heart’s racing in my throat because I know what’s about to happen—the thrill of the chase, the hunt, the kill.
It drives me, pushing me to go beyond my limits.
And to me, it’s a moment of bliss.
A little sliver of heaven as evil people are punished and cut from this world for their crimes.
As I walk onto the porch, I hear noise inside.
My ears perk up as I listen.
Two—no, three voices. And they sound awfully young.
But my target isn’t young at all. He told me he was fifty, so who the fuck are these people?
I’m definitely not alone even though the message the man sent me clearly said he would be.
What the fuck is going on?
I creep up to the window and look through.
Three guys wearing white masks just like the ones at the Phantom Society party are beating a dude with a bat and a pair of nunchucks. The hits are slow and painful, and I can’t help but focus on their faces hidden behind those damn masks. All that’s visible are their smiles and tongues as they dip out to lick the seam of their lips as they torture him.
My heart skips a beat.
I’m fascinated by their obvious delight in violence.
I’m watching way too long, but I can’t look away.
That was supposed to be my victim. Instead, he’s become theirs.
And I find myself oddly mesmerized by how they seem to enjoy dishing out pain just as much as I do.
One of them grabs his shoulder, pulls him close, and whispers something into his ear.
With a trembling hand, the man points at the closet to the left, and the guy storms at it, opening it up to find a safe, which he easily unlocks.
So they were beating him to make him say the code?
The guy pulls money from the safe and stuffs it into a bag. But when he turns, his piercing blue eyes suddenly flick to the window, and I duck. I crawl across the porch and hear footsteps coming toward the door.
Fuck.
I inhale a sharp breath and run back to the biggest tree to hide behind just as the door opens up, and three guys come barging out.
CLING CLANG!
Some coins drop to the stone pavement below the steps.
“Hey, don’t drop any. We need all of it,” someone says.
That voice … It sounds so, so familiar, but I can’t place it.
“Sorry, it’s just a lot. Man, that dude was so happy to part ways with that fucking cash,” another guy says, snorting.
Again, a voice I can’t place but definitely recognize from somewhere.
Could it be them? Are these the same guys who I met before in that grimy house?
Are they following me, or is it another coincidence?
I swallow away the nerves as they approach. I don’t dare to look.
“Hold on,” the first guy says. “We forgot some equipment. Let’s go back inside.”
“You go up ahead to start the car.”
“Okay, okay,” the guy says.
The door opens up again, and I can hear two guys walk back in again.
Now it’s just me and that one dude who’s going to the car.
His whole face hides underneath a hoodie, so I can’t tell who it is. He casually strolls down the pavement, whistling a happy tune, but I can smell the stench of fresh blood, like an odor drifting through the wind. Right as he passed the tree, I make myself as small as possible, hoping he doesn’t see me. But I know they’ll find the motorcycle outside eventually.
What do I do?
I lean in to see where he’s going, but suddenly, I’m face-to-face with him.
“Well, hello there,” he says. “Nice to see you again.”
What the fuck? How did he find me here?
I immediately go for the attack, and I punch him in the face, but he catches my hand with ease.
“Now, that’s not very nice of you.”
I try to punch him again from the side, but he dodges that too expertly, along with all my other swings. It’s almost as if he can see every one of my attacks coming before it lands.
Who the fuck is this guy?
“That’s not gonna work,” he says.
“How the fuck did you find me here?” I growl back, and I kick him in the nuts.
He groans in pain but swiftly recuperates and knocks me to the ground with a swift body grab and slam. The air is knocked out of my lungs.
“I already saw you the second you tried to make a beeline for this tree,” he says. “Lana.”
My eyes widen.
How does he know my name?
I slam my arm into his neck, making him choke, and I spin him around until I’m right on top of him.
“You have some moves,” he muses. “I’m impressed.”
“I’ll give you something to be impressed about,” I growl back, and I punch him in the gut so hard he groans out loud. But the groan is immediately followed by a smile. “Fuck. That almost hit the spot.”