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“The thing is, Alek, if I send you back with a bashed face and a cock burned into your forehead, I think that could be worse.”
He lets out a bemused laugh. “Are you kidding me? You think killing me is the—”
The recoil of the pistol, as it retracts in my hand, floods my veins with the relief I’ve been needing. An echo of a single gunshot blasts through the room as the bullet flies straight out of the pistol into Alek’s forehead. His skull peels open at the back of his head, splattering brain matter, blood, and gore all over the black wall. His head now rests against his chest as his body sags lifelessly in the chair.
“Fuck!” Trap calls out.
Alfie and Morgan both stare at me with mouths agape.
My shoulders roll with calmness, the devil inside me retreating now that the hunger has been appeased. It’s astonishing the sense of adrenaline that fills your senses the moment before a bullet leaves the chamber, followed by the relief you feel when you see the instant death hits the room and floods a man’s eyes.
It’s like an aphrodisiac.
Watching a man die at your hands.
Especially when he’s wronged you.
This is why I don’t let my devil out to play.
Because he thrives on the kill, he craves the blood, and he lusts after the carnage and chaos.
As calm washes over me, I walk to the cupboard to grab a cloth and begin to wipe down Alfie’s gun. Even though he has it on him all the time, I don’t want my fingerprints on a weapon used in an out-and-out murder.
Trap stands, his eyes trained on my every move as the room stays in an uncomfortable silence.
“I had no choice,” I murmur.
Trap grunts. “We could have let him go.”
I turn to face him and raise my brow. “And you’re willing to put Selene on the line. You’re willing to put Boss’s wife, Rosa, on the line? Your sisters, the other Bachelor women, for the sake of a deal with Zorko?”
Trap shakes his head. “Zorko was testing you, you know that, right? Sending you his nephew to see what you would do with him.”
“Exactly. And if we cower down and let him walk all over us when we make a deal, that will continue. The deal was we got the man who shot Morgan to do with as we saw fit. Just because that man was his nephew shouldn’t change the outcome, Trap.”
Trap shakes his head and exhales. “Zorko sent Alek to see if you’d send him back unharmed to keep the deal intact…” He pauses, thinking carefully about his next words. “You have destroyed our ties with him.”
Straightening my shoulders, I stand taller and puff out my chest. “He was sending a message to us. Well, I’m sending one right back. You fuck with us… we fuck back harder. He needs to know that we don’t roll over for anyone. He let us have his man for retribution, so we took it. Alek injured one of our men. Morgan may never be able to use his left arm properly again. The doctors said that, right?” I look at Morgan for confirmation, and he nods.
“The rotator cuff was pretty badly smashed, so my movement will be fairly limited,” Morgan replies, and I tilt my head to Trap, raising my brow in a gesture of an unspoken ‘see.’
“Still, who knows what kind of backlash this will have on the Bachelors, Cain. Were you even thinking when you pulled that trigger?” Trap asks, irking me the wrong way instantly.
I grit my teeth and race forward, full speed toward Trap. He stands taller as I grab his shirt and push him back into the wall with a thud, the black drywall shuddering with the force.
“Why are you questioning me? You were the fuckhead who couldn’t even carry out the basics of interrogation and torture techniques. How thefuckare you supposed to move up the ranks if you can’t do your motherfucking job properly, huh?”I slam him against the wall again for good measure as he lets out a huff of air like I’ve knocked it from his lungs.
His eyes drop to the floor, and he exhales with a long breath. “I’ll make it up to you.”
I drop him from the wall and slap him hard across his head. The pressure of his hard scalp vibrates through my palm, sending a shock wave of pain through my hand. So I know the hit hurt him too as his head falls forward, and he grunts.
“You better. I don’t know how yet, but youwillmake this up to me.” I turn and glance at Morgan, who looks a little lost. I nod, and he weakly smiles as I pass Alfie, who’s grinning wide like the fucking Cheshire cat.
He would be getting off on this whole thing—fucking freak.
Opening the door to the black room, I step out into the gray hallway and take a breath. The tension in the room evaporates as I look down at the expansive warehouse. Clenching my jaw, I start to walk. I’m not sure where I’m going, but I march through the warehouse, noticing various Bachelors as I go. No one stops to talk to me, the obvious look of‘don’t fucking talk to me’plastered all over my face. Making my way through the parlor, I stop to look at the Bachelorettes. They’re beautiful. I’ve been with most of them—probably all—but there’s only one blonde-haired woman I’m thinking about right now.
Groaning as I walk out of the parlor to the door, I knock on the painted wall, and it slides open as Harry grins at me when I exit. I nod to him and step out into the warehouse where the shipping containers are located.
