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“Dude!” Excitement eats at him. “That cunt was so shy when I got her back to my place.”
“I’m interested in this action you’re getting.” With a razor-sharp grin, I grab the reins. “The coma bitch. She can’t move around. Say nothing.” My stomach curdles into knots. Willow perceives me as a sadistic fuck. This is a whole ‘nother level. Lo, you’ll never have to worry about your mom again. I’m doing this for your own good.
I slap a greasy smile on my face. “You can run your hands over their sweet bodies, go wherever on them you’d like?”
A sly smile rides onto his lips.
I grin. “How many of the coma bitches have you had?”
“A few.”
“And you had her mom, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Sterling too?”
A Cheshire grin appears on his face. “Yeah.”
“Just the two of you? Or do you have a party? Get a little kickback from the visitors? You know, Kill Bill-style.”
His eyes widen with the epiphany. “That’s a good idea!”
“Good money to be had, bro. So, you . . . haven’t? Just you and Sterling, then?” Tell me everyone’s names. I’ll kill the motherfuckers.
Licking his lips, he says, “Just me and my boy, Sterling.”
I grab his face, head butting his nose. “You are so dead.”
For a fraction of a second, I’m the fragile little fucker who failed Jamie all those years ago. Bile burns my throat. I bite it back down and stroll toward a closet where we keep equipment. I grab the katana I took from Leith half a year ago and stalk back over to JT. Eyes biting shut, I pull in a breath. This is for you, Willow.
Okay, I fucking lied about julienning JT’s pecker. There’s a precision to cutting symmetrical slices, and after what he’s admitted, I’m not in my happy place. I’ve enough guilt of my own to keep from Willow and now this. I lift the katana like a bat. The sword swooshes through the air, carving through JT’s ankles. His dismembered feet clump to the ground. Blood flies everywhere like fireworks, and I fucking lose it. It’s a total blackout moment.
I wake from the abyss as Brody shakes my shoulders. My hand wipes the heated wet gore from my face.
“Ye almost fecking gutted me,” he snarls. He’s staring into my eyes. “Eh, you ain’t high. Wit the feck? Mam doesn’t allow killin’ under her roof.”
“Yeah. I know.” Blinking a few times, I run a bloody hand through my hair. My glare lands on JT. Fuck me. Either he’s dead or on the verge of giving up the ghost. A hack mark cuts to the bone on his shoulder and through his femur.
“My bad. I wasn’t . . . thinking.” I press my hands over JT’s leg, attempting to stop the blood. Scalding liquid seeps through my fingers. “This isn’t so bad. He just needs an adrenaline shot. I’ll administer it.”
“Oh.” Groaning, Brody tugs his beard. “They had the lass, aye?”
“Yeah. Between you and me, bro, there’s no way in fucking hell I’m mentioning it.”
“I’ll shoot the fecker through the heart with the syringe. Liven him up a bit.” As Brody gets the epinephrine, he says, “I’m proud of ye, American. Ye’ve changed.” I stare at him as he continues to talk. As Brody’s encouraging chat comes to an end, he stabs the needle into JT’s chest. Brody gestures toward the stairs. “Go. Be there for your lassie.”
On autopilot, my limbs coast toward the stairs. “Go. Be there for your lassie” runs through my psyche on a short circuit. How can I save the girl? While I’m her version of the perfect distraction, her innocent heart is saving me from the motherfucking monsters in my head.
