AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Posse. Like we were in the Wild West. Maybe we were, but our weapons were far superior. I thought about sending a message to those who were responsible.
Then it came to me.
I wrapped my hand around the front of Roger’s blood-soaked shirt, ripping it away with ease and exposing his chest. Then I went to work, creating artistry.
When I was finished, I stood back, basking in the piece I’d created.
“Dump his body in the heart of the connection between the Italians and Irish fucks. Perhaps they’ll get the message.”
“And if not?” Vassily asked, his grin widening. He knew when I’d reached the edge, incapable of holding back my need for revenge.
“Then I’ll resort to more extreme methods of punishment.”
“You heard the man. Get moving,” Vassily instructed, still keeping the grin on his face.
“And make certain you clean this shit up,” I stated as I moved toward the stairs, taking them two at a time. There was no doubt things were about to get messy. Whether or not Vladimir wanted a war on his hands might be forced into the background. It would seem some unknown faction of the Irish community had made it their mission to strip away our control.
Hell would freeze over first.
* * *
Candy
The bastard had locked me in the room. I’d infuriated him, pushing him past the limits of the smidgen of humanity I’d seen. I’d never felt so lonely or helpless in my life.
I could only tell several hours had passed by the waning sun and the gnawing in my stomach that continued to increase, my nerves so far over the edge that drinking water had become difficult. I stood by the window in the bedroom, which is where I’d been for almost two hours. I’d awakened to find a tray of pastries and fruits waiting for me. While my mouth had watered, I hadn’t been able to eat a bite. I’d noticed there wasn’t any silverware. Maybe whoever was watching over me had been instructed that I might use one as a weapon.
Being in the room was like being in a vacuum or a tomb, not a single sound permeating the thick walls. I’d tested them, pounding my fist on one side then the other. It was obvious they’d been reinforced, likely for the sole purpose of keeping anyone from hearing bloodcurdling screams.
I chewed on my lower lip, another thing I’d been doing almost the entire time I’d been awake. The taste of blood spilling into my mouth allowed me to remember where I was and why I was here.
As well as the fact a brutal killer had promised to protect as well as keep me.
The sound of the door engaging forced me suck in my breath. At some point he had to return. I had difficulty thinking his name, let alone speaking it. The differences in his temperament the night before had been unnerving. He’d acted like a man on the very edge of a cliff, shutting down all emotion for fear it would drive him over.
Even worse was my mind and body’s continued craving for him. No matter how hard I tried to hate him, the fact he’d saved my life as well as the incredible passion we shared always seemed to get in the way. I slowly turned my head as a woman entered the room, a tray exactly like the one that had been placed on the dresser in her hand. When she noticed the uneaten food, she scowled, muttering something under her breath in Spanish.
I turned toward her, suddenly needing information more than air. As I walked toward her quickly, she seemed surprised, jerking her head up even before she had a chance to replace one tray for another.
“Where is Kirill?”
She acted as if she didn’t understand at first.
“I know you can understand me. Where is he?” I didn’t care how demanding I sounded. When I moved to within a foot of her, she narrowed her eyes, glaring at me hatefully.
“Mr. Sabatin is otherwise engaged.” While her accent was thick, she spoke English flawlessly.
“When will he return?”
“I do not know.”
“And you wouldn’t tell me even if you did. Would you?”
She remained smug, ignoring me then resuming her purpose for being in the room.
“Have you worked for him long?”
“Si, señorita.” She’d been trained not to say anything to me.
