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How many more to go?
I crouch down and see a foot step onto the running board out of the passenger side. I shoot and hear a loud yelp. A guy dressed in black tumbles out the door, his bloody foot caught under the running board. He slams face-first into the concrete. Rolling around, he reaches for his gun a few inches away. I aim for his hand and shoot.
He flops onto his back, clutching his blasted hand. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he yells.
“Don’t be a pussy. It doesn’t hurt yet.” I kneel down next to him and fist the neck of his t-shirt. “But if you don’t tell me what I want to hear, I will pull your lips through your asshole and then shove the barrel of my gun into your mouth before I fire it.Thatis pain, bro. That’s what you’re gonna suffer if you don’t tell me where Skyla is.”
The guy’s head lolls to the side, his skin pale other than the streaks of blood staining it. “Suck my cock, Malikov.”
“Not my bag, friend. I’m gonna ask again. Where the fuck is she?” I shove the barrel of my gun between his eyes.
“It’s too late for both of you. She’s already gone. And so is Tyson.” He lets out a malicious snicker. “He won, motherfucker. You lost. And now everyone in your family will suffer because of it.”
A sharp ping jars me. My eyes fall to the cell phone on the ground next to the guy. I peer at the screen, my chest tight. When I look back at him, a grimace tugging at my lips, his eyes widen.
“You should have been a little more polite to me before. I might not have pulled the trigger if you weren’t such a dick. Too bad for you. Don’t make the same mistake in your next life, asshat.”
“No, please, don—!”
But I do.
So fuck you.
Chapter34
Skyla
Iopen my eyes a crack, then slam them shut when a thin stream of light blinds me. My temples scream. A paralyzing pain shoots across my forehead. I wince, a strangled cry slipping from my dry lips. Holy hell, my mouth is drier than a camel’s asshole during a sandstorm.
My stomach twists, a wave of nausea crashing over me.
Oh my God, I’m going to puke.
I roll around on the mattress and struggle to lift my head from the pillow. The room spins, my head dropping back down like it’s a lead weight.
Bile rises in my throat, and tears sting my eyes. I peek at my surroundings again, a shiver rippling through me.
Where the hell am I?
Memories blast my mind like paintball bullets.
Zak and Val talking about handing me over to my maniacal fiancé. Running away to save myself when, ironically, that was supposed to be a place for safe haven. Tyson drugging me and then throwing me into his car to kidnap me.
He took me… somewhere. To do… something.
Jesus, what a fucking day.
I squint at the clock next to the bed.
And it’s not even noon, if my eyes can be trusted.
“Tyson.” I mean for it to sound a lot more menacing than it does. Instead, because there is virtually no moisture in my mouth, it comes out as more of a pathetic squeak. I shake my hands, knocking them against the headboard. “Where are you, psychopath?”
Seconds stretch into what feels like hours before he finally appears in the doorway. “The princess is finally awake.”
“What the hell is going on? How did you find me?”
Tyson walks into the room wearing only a towel. His lanky build is lean and toned, but not even remotely close to the masculine cuts of muscle that adorn Zak’s body. Tyson is all boy, Zak all man.
