Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
He tried to rally against the pain and began to crawl away.
That was funny to watch, to think he had a chance.
I moved forward and put my foot down on his hand.
He screamed, his entire body coming alive. He tried swinging on me, but I was ready and merely brought my knife down so he impaled himself on it. Another guttural scream strangled from him.
I liked hearing that sound.
I could say that I hadn’t stabbed him. Technically he stabbed himself.
I left the knife in his hand, because if he tore it out, I’d let him use it against me. He would’ve earned that. That’s another reason why it was dull, though. In case it was used against me. The other reason: the duller it was, the more work it took to wreak havoc. Win-win-win as far as I was concerned.
I squatted in front of him.
His chest was taking in deep breaths, rising and falling. And he was calculating. I had no doubt he was making more promises in his head, what he’d do to hurt me.
“Ask me again why you’re here, Ashton.” I said it softly, almost tenderly.
He cringed against that sound from me. “Why am I here, you fucking psychopath?” He spat out those words.
I heaved out a sigh because he’d listen now. We were finally getting somewhere. “Normally, I would just slit your throat and be done with you, but we’re in a rather delicate situation here. Aren’t we?”
I pushed him back down, putting my foot on his throat this time. He could swing on me. I was letting his good hand free. If he did, I had another plan on how he could hurt himself. Ashton remained lying there under my foot. He didn’t swing on me again.
He was learning. Good boy.
“You helped in having Blake kidnapped. So that’s why I had you kidnapped.”
I removed my foot from his throat.
He was lying still, but the next part would fill him with fire.
I was looking forward to that, but again, I wasn’t stupid. I whistled, and the door opened. My men filtered back inside. I motioned for them to come forward. I’d need them to hold him back.
“I’m going to let you live, Ashton.”
His eyes jerked to mine. He didn’t believe me.
I squatted at his head again. “No. It’s true. After I tell you the rest, my men will take you back.”
I took hold of his hand, the one where my knife was still embedded. He hadn’t used it on me, so I was going to take it back. Another day, though. Another battle. I held his hand, took hold of the knife, and waited. “The other reason I had you taken? One of my rules is that once you hurt one of mine, I return it tenfold. So because of that, when you get home, you’re going to find out what it’s like to have someone of your own hurting. I hurt you physically, but the most enjoyment I get is when I hurt you here.” I touched his chest where his heart was located. “Your woman runs a bowling alley, right?”
He froze.
“She bought it. Renovated it. Put her heart and soul into it.” I met his gaze, wrapping my hand around the knife’s handle again. “Too bad it burned down tonight.”
His body coiled to spring, but I ripped the knife out of him and backed up.
He sprung up, charging me.
My men were there. This time I let them hold him back.
He couldn’t fight them, not in the state he was in.
I had one more item to share. “Tristian West was also a part of gathering information on Blake.”
“I’m going to kill you. Slowly and one limb at a time,” he vowed. He meant it too. I could see he did, and I paused to take in this sight of him. Enacting revenge for what they did to Blake, that was my job.
That was my right.
“His woman is a painter, right? She’s doing well. Has a new gallery with all her pretty new paintings. New masterpieces that sell for thousands.”
He cursed under his breath, but he stopped fighting my men.
“She has a new show coming up in two weeks.” This time, I smiled, and this time, I meant it. “They’ll have to find a new location. Both the gallery and your woman’s bowling alley burned down on the same night. All those paintings. All ash now.” I stopped smiling, though I still relished the pain on his face.
His fight had left him, so I motioned for my men to let him go. They did.
He didn’t try crawling away this time. He only watched me, his eyes blazing, ringed in agony.
“Think about that the next time you insist on threatening one of mine. Do you hear me?” There was a new burning in his depths. Yes. He got it. I could see it in his eyes.