AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shudder when he shoves the hilt of the knife into my numb hands. Suddenly, he’s pulling me out of the shadows and over to the mayhem.
I’ve seen blood. I’ve seen death. My father made sure of both of those things. But this is…something else.
This is beyond horrific.
Cillian storms us over to the guy whimpering and dragging himself across the filthy ground, then yanks him up and shoves him back against the brick wall next to us.
“Please…” the man chokes and gurgles, his eyes pure terror as blood trickles from his mouth. “Please…don’t…”
“Thisis it, Una,” Cillian snarls.
I choke as he grabs my hand holding the knife and suddenly yanks it close to the man. The guy sobs as the point of the knife presses against his jugular, a hair’s breadth away from piercing the skin.
“Cillian…”
My pulse is roaring in my ears so loud it’s almost all I can hear. My vision tunnels, my skin crawls, and then all I see is me, Cillian, the man, and the knife in my hand that Cillian is pressing into the guy’s throat.
“Thisis my darkness, Una,” Cillian growls, making me shudder as he pushes the knife even harder.
Then, he lets go. My hands shake, but they don’t remove the knife.
“There. That’s the fucker who hurt you.”
I blanch, shivering as my head shakes side to side. “He’s not—”
“But he can be. He can be whatever monster won’t let you go.”
My world narrows to a point, until all I can see is Cillian’s bloody hand holding mine. And the knife, with the tip of it pressed against this man’s throat, just piercing the skin now.
“This piece of shit’s a murderer and a child rapist,” Cillian hisses. “So you can lose whatever guilt you might have.”
He leans close, his eyes stabbing into mine as my breath comes fast and shallow, my gaze locked on the prick of red just under the tip of the blade at the man’s throat.
“Do it,” Cillian snarls. “If you want to know the monster living in me,then fuckingdo—”
That’s when I break. I choke out a sob, my body shuddering and convulsing as the tears flood my face.
“I can’t!” I cry. “I can’t because I’m not you!”
I gasp the second I say it, my free hand slamming over my mouth as my eyes dart, horrified, to his.
But whatever devil was there before, snarling at me so full of viciousness and venom, all I see now ishim—the Cillian I know.
“I know you’re not,” he murmurs softly, pulling my hand and the blade away from the dying man’s neck. “Come with me.”
I’m crying and shaking as he gently leads me away until I’m leaning against a brick wall about ten feet away.
“Wait here.”
“Wait, Cillian—”
Without blinking, Cillian whips around, strides back over to the pleading, screaming man, and grabs a fistful of his hair at the front. My eyes bulge in horror as he yanks the man’s head back. With one clean stroke, the blade slices open his larynx.
He does it all with the ease, practice, and nonchalance of ordering a turkey sandwich on rye.
Holy fuck.
Cillian drops to his haunches, neatly wiping the blade clean on the man’s shirt before he slips it back inside his own jacket—all while I debate if I’m going to run until I can’t run anymore.
