AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“For you,” Desmond confirms as he rises from the couch to stand beside me.
My chest aches, and the emotions I’ve suppressed for years rise to the surface. “What would you do to protect those you love?” he asks again.
“Is this…” I swallow hard, feeling bile rise. “Is this to keep me, to entangle me in your world?”
“I told you I’m not letting you go,” he asserts.
“This makes me an accessory,” I continue, standing upright with my hand pressed to my lips. Emotions I haven’t felt in years bubble up, proving my therapist right. “Sara… How could I be so foolish? She works for you.”
“Yes,” Desmond admits without hesitation. “Sara evaluates those we consider bringing into our world. She also sees every one of my people as necessary.”
“A therapist for serial killers,” I murmur, my breath shaky.
“Is that so far-fetched?” Desmond questions.
I swipe away my tears, resolve settling in my belly. “No,” I admit, realizing the intelligence in this approach. “I settled in a town full of murderers.”
“We only kill the deserving.”
“What does that even mean?”
Desmond’s control is unwavering. He grips my chin, turning my head to face him. “We kill vermin like him,” he says, his eyes piercing mine. “I’m fixing everything that those before me created.”
“Mob with morals,” I remark, my voice tinged with disbelief.
“No, kitten. I don’t have white knight morals.” His voice is a raw whisper laced with desire as he leans toward me. His lips press against mine, and I feel a spark of electricity run through my body as his teeth sink into the softness of my lip. “I’m not the hero, Charlotte. I’m the villain.” He pulls back and looks deep into my eyes, and I can feel the darkness radiating off him. He places the remote in my hand, our palms pressing together, and speaks again, his words an ominous warning. “Decide his fate.”
Tears stream down my face as Desmond presses against my back and wraps his hands around my waist. I cling to him, focusing on the feel of his strong, rough hands against my sweater. He glances sideways at me, a smile curling up one side of his mouth. “You ready?” he asks. I nod, biting my bottom lip until it hurts. My heart is pounding in my throat, making it hard to swallow.
Lyric lunges forward, his fingers tightening around the man’s hair as he drags him back. I can’t turn away from the intruder, a stranger who came to my home with evil intentions for Milo. My stomach churns, and nausea rises in my throat as I watch their confrontation with dread.
Decide his fate.
My lips press together, and a sob shakes my chest. I’m not stupid. I know what needs to happen. The only answer is death. I would do anything to keep Milo safe. The finality of the situation washes over me like a tidal wave.
Behind me, Desmond buries his nose in my hair and then slides down to my neck. He whispers against my skin, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. “Does he live or die?”
My heart pounds in my chest as I look at the man sitting before me, his breathing slow and ragged. He had no choice, just like me. It seems we are both puppets in somebody else’s game. I can feel an invisible force controlling us both. I want to scream, “Run!” but instead, I can only whisper, “Kill him.”
“The red button,” Desmond whispers against my temple.
My eyes linger on the remote in my hand as I contemplate pressing the red button. My fingers feel heavy, like the consequences of my decision weigh them down. Do I really have a choice at all? Even though this feels like an illusion of control, it’s still a choice that I’m making, and I’m not sure if I can go back to who I was before this moment. I don’t know if I even want to.
I choose to protect Milo and press the button down.
Lyric shakes the man awake. His eyes blink open, and he tries to speak, but his tongue is nothing but a jagged lump.
That’s where the blood came from.
Lyric moves with such speed and precision that it appears like I’m viewing him through time-lapse video. The glint of the knife’s edge slashes through his throat like a hot blade through soft butter. A frenzied spray of crimson covers the window as Lyric takes this man’s life, draining his dying body until only glassy eyes remain, staring at me as death takes its final toll.
As his arm slowly falls to his side, Lyric’s blank gaze meets mine, the icy eyes of a seasoned killer piercing through me. This time, though, instead of fear, I feel my breath slow as an inexplicable sense of tranquility descends upon me. I reluctantly turn away with one last look into Lyric’s soulless eyes.
“Take me home, please,” I murmur, dropping the remote and stepping out of Desmond’s arms. “Take me home.”
PartTwo
“Blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family.”
