Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
The strike lands right at thigh level resulting in additional pain being delivered to his crotch, a byproduct that prompts me into villainously grinning.
Relocating to the gap between his sprawled appendages.
Tossing Mutt back his tool and reaching my hand towards Kid. “Cutters.”
Curiosity crosses his face yet doesn’t delay him transferring the item to me.
I flash him a smile of gratitude and mischievously rub the round edge across Brad’s lap in search of my target.
“Rabbit…”
Locating my goal – or close enough to call it – I merely spread the handles of the tool on a toothier grin, wrist pain completely unregistering over the excitement.
“You’re not gonna-”
Our eyes lock and I begin forcefully squeezing, an action that rewrites the end of his statement.
“Apparently, you are.”
My gaze cuts over to Kid who casually informs, “You need to apply at least fifty pounds of pressure for it to pop.” When I quirk an eyebrow in surprise, he warmly beams. “You should put it on the ground and use your full weight to guarantee you see that checkered flag.”
God, I love him.
“Why do you know that?” Nolan grumbles, mirth notably in his tone. “Why the fuck do you know that, Kid?”
“Good shit to know.”
“Why is that good shit to know?!”
“For moments like this?”
“This is not a fuckin’ moment either of us were plannin’ on, so I’mma need a better goddamn answer.”
“Car shits heavy,” the younger man we both adore announces as I reposition the tool to follow through with his suggestion. “It’s good to know what could happen to your balls if something falls.”
Mutt grunts.
Nods.
Grunts again. “That tracks.” He uses the edge of the crowbar to crane Brad’s head upward to watch the impending annihilation. “I think you should give him an A on his physics examine.”
“Biology,” I correct, foot now on the handle.
“It’s energy and force,” argues the father of our child over the trapped screaming of our victim. “That’s. Physics.”
“It involves the human body and its functions.” One forceful foot press precedes me sassily stating. “That’s. Biology.”
Mangled shrieks rush to dart out of my dying stalker only to remain ensnared due to his mutilated throat.
“However, what we’re about to do you, Brad,” I vilely begin while repositioning the object to destroy his other ball, “is ethology.” My foot once more replaces my fingers. “Get ready to learn what happens when you threaten animals like us out in the wild…”
Chapter 5
Nolan
I nudge the side of the corpse with the tip of my foot to verify McAdams is dead, dead. “Looks like he was mauled to death by wild animals.”
“Technically,” Rabbit cheekily peers up at me, dirt caked on her face like cheap makeup, “he was.”
Agreed.
Things did get a bit unhinged.
Throat, bone, and ball crushing were all fairly tame in comparison to watching my future wife gouge out his other eye and my future husband piss in the hole.
And while we probably could’ve stopped there – fuck, probably should’ve – we didn’t.
I peeled away hunks of his flesh, The Kid snapped off extremities like he was clipping his fucking toenails, and Rabbit fed him whatever was left of his own dick post her crushing.
We’re talkin’ actually fed him despite the fact he had already croaked.
She shoved bits into his mouth and then moved his jaw, forcing him to chew.
It was fucked up.
But funny.
And even more fucked up that we found it funny.
Rather him than us, right?
“What now?” The Kid inquiries from the other side of our woman.
“Now?” Lowering to a squat precedes my hands landing on the lifeless figure. “We roll the motherfucker off the edge.”
There’s no hesitation in the two of them to take similar stances to aid in the disposal process.
Together, we shove the remains over the nearby cliff, collectively watching it roll from the steep hilltop we’re perched on into the thick greenery below where it’ll become food or fertilizer or both.
I hope for both.
Not only because then there’s less “evidence” of a crime but because he took so much from this fucking world.
His psychotic ass should give something back.
Karma.
Or…karmatic justice.
Whatever that shit’s called.
Post the echoes of a thud, the three of us relocate further away, and flop onto the cold, hard ground, exhausted.
Proud.
Liberated.
“We did it,” my best friend declares at the same time his leaner frame wilts from fatigue. “We finally crossed the fucking finish line.”
I do the only thing I can.
I toss him a half-hearted grin.
Fact is…it’s not over.
Yeah, we don’t have to worry about someone watching and listening and recording our every fucking movement so they can kill us and kidnap the mother of our child, but this McAdams shit isn’t quite done.
There’re loose ends.
Lots of loose ends.
He’s not exactly some nomad the world’s never heard of or won’t notice went missing.
He’s got family.
Wealthy. Family.
And folks with money are always a problem.
Just ask Garcia.
He’ll be happy to provide proof.
As if she can hear my thoughts – or maybe because she’s thinking them too – Rabbit sweetly states, “One race down, Kid.” Small nodding is followed by her leaning in for a kiss. “Definitely one race down.”