I’d been waiting years for this moment, slightly disappointed that my protégé would be the one who’d get to take this bastard’s life instead of me. But a dead Dawson was all that mattered. It was about time the name died with its last and only living predecessor.
Thank fucking god that piece of shit never decided to reproduce. Then again, how could you ever have a child,a baby girl, and not reap what you sow?
The air shifted between us, and Declan’s demeanor suddenly changed from cautious to careless within an instant.
“I suppose that’s a good enough reason as any to put a bullet in his head. What are we waitin’ for?”
“Dec!” I hissed as he charged off toward the front steps, gun drawn at his side, all too eager for the kill. “You dumb fuck…”
By the time I’d reached the steps, he’d already managed to kick in the door, rushing inside without a second’s pause. I was all for storming a base with guns blazing like an old-time western movie, but goddamn, this was not one of those fuckin’ times.
Tightening my grip around Louie, I crept inside, stalking the halls and rooms of the main floor one by one, swiftly searching forDeclan while listening for any sign of movement. I didn’t know how many people were here, if any.
The plantation was supposed to be in its transitional stage—empty. No more than twenty-four hours ago, Anthony Dawson had dispatched his last ‘shipment’of women for sale, which in turn triggered the desire for his head on a stick.
I had high hopes that with that kind of knowledge already in hand, the MUR would’ve intercepted the truck before it reached its intended destination. Although those details weren’t disclosed to me, just my protégé’s task.
With no luck on the main level, I careened around a corner that brought me back to the foyer before hauling ass up the carpeted staircase to the second floor. Just as I’d reached the last three steps, I heard four loud bangs in rapid succession, with a fifth that followed a few seconds after.Shit.
“Declan!” I called out his name, hoping he’d answer so I could figure out where the fuck he was. The first floor was empty, so if anyone were to take me by surprise, it wouldn’t come from behind.
I followed the sounds of furniture being knocked over, glass shattering, and the aggravated grunts of at least two men caught in a fight. Shadows danced across the walls, coming from an open door at the end of the hall, and I headed straight for it. With a hard kick, I sent the old hardwood flying on its hinges, crashing into the wall.
“Dawson.” I beamed in smug satisfaction, taking in the middle-aged man who was currently in the process of strangling myprotégé. “I thought your southern charm meant better manners when a guest enters your home.”
“Guest? Do you motherfuckers know whose land you’re trespassing on?” Anthony barked with a gravely tone.
“Seeing as I just said your last name, I think we’re well aware of the plantation’s ownershipand its history.” That statement alone shut him up real fast, his grip slightly loosening on Declan’s throat, enough for him to catch his breath. “So, how about you let up on my boy Declan there, and we talk this out like grown men?”Not really.
“Fuck you. I know who you are.” Anthony’s face paled as he glimpsed my weapon of choice, held firmly in my right hand—my ring.
“Oh, do you now? What gave me away? Louie?” Arching a brow, I rolled my wrist to twirl the bat with a side of flair. I’d built a reputation over these last six years, and I was fucking proud of it. He was right to be intimidated and scared.
“You’re no better than me, Rhylan. Taking the lives of innocent—”
“Hold up, I’m going to stop you right there, because Iambetter than you, andweare not the fuckin’ same, Dawson.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Declan reach a hand toward his gun while I held Anthony’s attention. “Not a single life I’ve taken has been innocent, and yours?” I laughed at his attempt at calling me a monster when he was the fucking boogieman. “How the fuck you manage to see yourself as a saint is beyond me. You and your pridecan go straight to fucking hell, and Dec here is going to give you a one-way express ticket. Compliments of the MUR.”
Declan had managed to graze the handle of his gun with his fingertips when Anthony took notice of what he was doing, before hastily reaching out in an effort of beating him to it.
I dropped my shoulder against the doorway, watching them duke it out all over again, confident that he could handle his task and get himself out of this situation alive.
They wrestled across the floor, blindly throwing punches, taking turns pinning the other before taking a solid fist or elbow to the face. Their struggle was entertaining while it lasted—if only I’d brought something to drink. My eyes briefly paused on the fully stocked bar cart in the room’s far corner.Tempting…
Returning my attention to the task at hand, the two were now fighting over the handle of Declan’s gun, the barrel switching between them like a game of Russian roulette. I rolled my eyes with a sigh, impatiently checking my watch for the time.
“Dec, quit fuckin’ around and just shoot him already…” A second later, the gun went off, and there was a brief pause before I witnessed my protégé fall to the side like a bag of rocks.Fuck…
“Aw, man. Now look what you’ve done, Dawson. You’ve gone and lost me my first promising protégé in years…” I pushed off the door frame and stepped up to Anthony’s side, still lying on the floor, winded from their altercation. There were only seven bullets left in the magazine when we arrived, and he’d just spent the last one—on Declan. “And for the record. If anyone would’ve shown you mercy this evening, it would’ve beenhim. But I guess it’s a little too late for you to experience the meaning of that word.” I towered over his body, my shadow cast across his face like the grim fucking reaper. “Say hello to all the souls you’ve ripped out over the years for me, will ya?”
Without wasting another breath on the unforgivable son of a bitch, I lifted Louie into the air and brought him down with a hammer-like force that splintered the hardwood floor beneath Anthony’s head as it broke through his skull with a single blow.
For good measure, I took a second swing, just to ensure Anthony would never come back, even as a fucking zombie, splattering his brain matter and blood across the floor like an abstract painting.
Another problem resolved. Another man off my shitlist.
Declan had so much potential. What a fucking shame.
Chapter 2
