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The bitch fucking thrashes me.The way she looks up at me with those big, pretty fucking eyes and asks me if she’ll get to go home? Doesn’t fucking question my answers, the thought of having to stay with me when she leaves this place. She doesn’t fucking whine and bitch. All I see when she looks at me is fucking gratitude and it makes me feel like a piece of shit.
I leave as quickly as I could but even as I’m stepping out the doors of the building, I’m already wishing I was back there. Can’t believe I have to leave her in this fucking place.
Turning, I head toward the liquor store.
Only one way I’m going to get to sleep tonight.
* * *
“I want to see her,”I tell Ivor, and he chuckles.
“That can be arranged. She is yours, after all. We have special rooms you can utilize at the facility. I’ll see to it they have it set up for you.”
“Fine,” I tell him through gritted teeth. “And the initiation?”
“The address will be provided to you. I’ll look forward to hearing about it on the news over the weekend and the final ceremony will be Sunday.”
I don’t reply to that, clicking off the call. Pulling out a cigarette, I take a long drag.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
* * *
I wakeup with the nauseating thought of what I’ll have to do tonight, running through my pounding skull. From what I’ve been told, it’ll be just, but even still, killing is not something I am fond of. With enough whiskey, I managed to avoid the nightmares that I’ve been having the past nights ever since Ivor told me what I have to do next. Shifting, I groan when a bottle falls off the bed and clunks loudly against the floor.
I stop moving and tentatively open my eyes, despite the searing pain going through my head as the light hits it.
How the fuck am I going to go through with it?
Still not standing, I reach out my hand and fumble around until I find my pack of smokes and pull one out, lighting it and closing my eyes. I let the nicotine wash over me, not sure if it's helping or making the headache worse.
By the time I’m done, I do feel more centred at least.
I pull out my phone and notice I missed another call from Killian. Ignoring it, I dial Phil, who answers on the second ring.
“Boss man, good to hear from you,” he answers and I grunt at the name.
“I’ve got some shit I need you to pick up for me today,” I tell him without preamble, pulling the phone away to quickly send him a text with the list.
“One sec,” he says, coming back a moment later. “Boss…”
“Don’t wanna hear it,” I interrupt. “Can you get it?”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice sullen, “I can get it. When do you need it?”
“I’ll be going to visit...someone, then I’ll be back at nightfall for the stuff.”
Phil sighs. “Okay, boss. I’ll see you tonight.”
Slamming my phone down on the table, I stare up at the ceiling.
Today is going to fucking suck.
Within two hours,I’m back at the Iron Elite facility. I didn’t give them a heads-up, so I’m sitting in a similar room as the day before waiting.
I feel uncomfortable, like I want to crawl out of my own skin.
I’m pacing the room with a smoke in hand when I hear a small knock at the door. Shifting, I turn to open the door to see Kinsey standing there, the guard, Mark, standing behind her.
