AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“But—”
“Just wait in the fucking club, woman,” I growl, flicking out a hand dismissively, my patience lost. I know Pearl is outside this door—I can fucking smell her—and I don’t need Allison seeing the imminent showdown. Not that I care. But I don’t need an injured woman on my back, because I am in no fit state to pacify her. Not now. Not ever.
I push my way outside, my mouth loaded ready to rant.
And suck back my words when I find her being held up against a wall by her throat, a hand on her exposed breast.
A flashback of her on a dirty mattress in the hangar, a tube dangling out of her arm, attacks me. “The fuck?” I roar, momentarily paralyzed by my anger. I get my shit together a few moments too late, drawing my gun and aiming. He yanks Pearl away from the wall and pulls her back to his front. Her green eyes are blank. Her mouth’s open a fraction. Her hands are gripping his forearm around her chest.
The blade held at her neck glistens under the glow of the moon.
I lift my gaze from the knife to her eyes. She doesn’t look scared. Appears perfectly calm.
I can’t say the same for myself.
Red hair.
Red mist.
Red.
I close one eye, trying to line up my shot, but the fucker keeps dipping his head behind Pearl’s. “Let her go,” I grate, my voice thick with threat, my throat tight. “Or I will rip your insides out with my bare fucking hands.” I’ve already killed one man this evening. I’d say that’s enough for one day but knowing what I know, there’s not a chance in Hell this piece of shit’s walking away alive, whether he releases Pearl or not. I study his arm, the bend at the elbow, how far that precise part of his body is from her.
“You should have stayed in the club, man,” he yells, the panic in his voice real. Warranted. Stupid fuck.
“And you should have left her alone.” I aim, fire, and put a bullet in his elbow, sending his hand flying out, the knife ricocheting off the wall nearby before hitting the ground. Reaching for Pearl’s hand, I yank her behind me as the fucker screams, clenching his arm, circling, yelling, crying. “Does that hurt?” I ask, changing the magazine of my gun for a fresh one. A full one.
The music in club changes, Woodkid coming on.
Run Boy Run.
Perfect. Let’s make a show of this. I smack the bottom of my gun, smiling as he looks up at me. “Run,” I whisper, lining up my shot.
“Brad,” Pearl breathes, pulling at my arm. “Brad, stop.”
I shrug her off. “I said . . . run.”
Fear in a man isn’t something I ever usually get a kick out of. If they deserve to die, I kill them. Today, though? Satisfaction with purpose licks its way up my spine. I realign my shot and shoot, catching his upper arm.
“Shit, no, please!”
“Run, boy,” I say, walking forward as he staggers back. He turns, starting to jog down the alley. I stop, aim, and fire, hitting his lower right arm.
“Brad, please!” Pearl says.
He runs.
I shoot again.
“Brad!”
I smile when his shoulder jerks, and he screams some more. Wiping my brow with the back of my shooting hand, I keep walking as he staggers along, a fucked-up excitement sailing through my veins. I don’t know who made a bruised mess of Pearl’s breasts when I found her. In this moment, I’m imagining it’s this sick fuck. I stop again, lift my hand, close one eye, and pull the trigger, aiming for his left arm.
Not his legs.
Not yet.
“Arhhh!” He trips, falling to his knees, looking back at me, his face full of terror.
