Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 149148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
“Where’s MJ right now, James?” He didn’t even think of asking if MJ was alive, and Helios could feel relief explode inside him when James didn’t answer with a negative, didn’t tell him that his beloved brat was dead.
“In Vegas.” His voice was slurred when he answered. Why was it slurred?
“Will they be staying there indefinitely?”
When James took too long to answer, Kellion hit him with the bat once more.
James came awake with a jolt, and the pain in his dick made sure he was alert once more.
Helios repeated his question.
“N-no.” He could feel himself drooling and wondered if it was because he had lost control of his mouth. It did feel a little wonky. “I showed...” he realized what he was about to reveal and shut up.
Helios flicked his lighter open. “Don’t even think of lying, Cartwright. Spill it.”
Panic bubbled inside James. Doing his best to sway away from the burning flame near his face, James said, “I showed MJ your photos in the newspaper.”
Helios cracked his fists, knowing it wasn’t time for him to kill James yet. Goddamn bastard. Goddamn him, goddamn him for always wanting to hurt MJ.
“She was...affected by what she saw and Manolito saw it. He saw the whole thing.”
His entire body chilled at what those words could mean. From everything he had heard about the trafficker, Manolito Chavez was an extremely possessive and volatile being, one who would not appreciate if his favorite victim had any feelings to spare for another man.
In his mind, MJ appeared, standing so still it was as if she had become a statue. Light surrounded her, and Helios cursed silently at the sight, not liking what it portended. No, dammit, stay here with me, brat. Stay with me. Wait for me.
It took incredible effort for Helios to focus on James, and he had to force himself to speak past the lump in his throat. “If Chavez found out about me, what would happen to MJ?”
James gulped. “I heard...he liked to have his men feast on women who displease him—aaaaaaah!” Suddenly, he was being reeled down, faster than a roller coaster, and before he knew it he had fallen to the ground.
Helios gazed at his friends. It was over. James Cartwright’s life was over. It had been forfeit the moment he had sold MJ to a monster like Manolito Chavez, and it was time for Cartwright to pay for his sins.
When James opened his eyes, he saw the men getting on their bikes. He struggled to free himself, but the ropes around his wrists and ankles didn’t even give an inch. Someone revved his bike, and when James looked up, he saw that the motorcycle was heading his way.
A silent scream of horror burst out of his throat as the motorcycle flew right over him, its wheels burning the skin of his nose. “Stop!” he finally managed to bellow. “Fuck you, stop—” But he quickly shut his mouth as another bike came blazing towards him.
He closed his eyes, thinking it would lessen the horror. But it was the biggest mistake he did, allowing the wheels to tear off the skin of his eyelids. He screamed and cried and begged, but he already knew none of them were willing to listen to him. In the deepest part of him, he realized they were making him pay for what he had done to MJ, making him relive every excruciating second of her agony.
The third bike came from the other side, leaving scalding skid marks on his chest before its rear wheel crushed his dick.
“Aaaaaaaaaah!”
But it wasn’t over, he realized sickly as he heard one last motorbike revving, purring, growling, taunting James to look at his last tormentor.
Helios Andreadis.
He watched in growing terror as Helios slowly put on his helmet.
And then Helios was flying—
Before landing directly on James’ skull, pulverizing the bone with the front wheel of his bike into thousands of pieces.
IT WAS AN HOUR LATER when the officers of Afxisi flew out of Nassau in a private jet, leaving behind an old boathouse burnt to the ground. Records for that day would show that not one of them had visited the island. It was as if they had never been there, and it was as if James Cartwright had never existed either.
In the privacy and comfort of his jet, Helios leaned tiredly against his seat and closed his eyes. He tried to search inside himself for any feelings of regret for what he had done to MJ’s adoptive father, but there was none. If anything, he wished he could have done more, could have prolonged the torture for years because that was how long James Cartwright had played Russian roulette with her life.
MJ. He called for her imaginary twin in his mind, but she didn’t appear. He called for her again and again in his mind, and his body tensed more and more when the silence in his mind only lengthened. A sly, sinister voice whispered to him that it could be proof that MJ was gone, truly gone, but Helios refused to believe that.