Devils Cut

Chapter 25

Tempest Miller

The steam from the coffee pot danced around me, teasing my senses with its rich aroma. I savoured the warmth of the ceramic mug in my hands, knowing that soon its contents would be coursing through my veins, giving me life. Killer was lounging on the couch, one leg thrown over the armrest, his eyes glued to the TV. A half-smile played on his lips as he watched some mindless action movie.

”Hey, Killer,” I called out, ”Milk and sugar?”

”Make it cream and two sugars, Tempest,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.

I rolled my eyes, reaching into the fridge for the cream. Fucking Americans and their obsession with cream. The milk back in Australia had always been just fine for coffee.

The sudden knock at the door made me jump, my heart pounding in my chest like a jackhammer. Killer”s voice cut through the tension as he called out, ”Stay in the kitchen.” I held my breath, listening to him get up and move toward the front door.

”Who the hell is it?” I thought, wiping my hands on my tracksuit pants nervously. The sound of the door creaking open made my skin prickle.

”Can I help you?” Killer asked, his voice all ice and steel. I strained to hear the response, but it was too faint, muffled by the distance between us.

And then, without warning, the sound of gunshots rang out – pop, pop – followed by a loud thud on the floor. My heart dropped into my stomach, and panic surged through me like a tidal wave. ”Run, Tempest!” Killer shouted, his voice filled with urgency.

My hands shook as I bolted for the back door, the coffee cup slipping from my grip and shattering on the floor behind me. I didn”t dare look back; all I could think about was getting the fuck out of there before the bullets found their mark.

My heart pounded in my chest as I sprinted towards the back door. But just as I was about to make my escape, a chillingly familiar voice stopped me dead in my tracks.

”Stop, or I”ll shoot you.”

I froze, my hands instinctively shooting up in the air as I slowly turned to face my stepbrother, Greg. His cruel black eyes bore into me from the kitchen doorway. The icy grip of fear tightened around my chest as if he had his hand wrapped around my heart.

”Greg, what the fuck are you doing here?” I spat out, backing up towards the door, my eyes darting between him and the gun aimed at me.

”I”ve come to take what”s mine home,” he said coldly, his gaze never leaving mine. ”I”ve lost a lot of money without you there, and it”s time you come home.”

”Home?” I scoffed, bile rising in my throat. ”You don”t give a shit about me. You only care about the fucking money.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but the terror coursing through my veins made it impossible.

”Doesn”t matter what I care about,” he sneered. ”Fact is, you belong to me, and I”m taking you back.”

”Fine,” I spat, lowering my hands slowly. ”You want me to come with you? Let”s go.”

His eyes narrowed, suspicious, but he didn”t call my bluff. Not yet, anyway. I let my right hand slip behind my back, fingers inching towards the door handle as I inched closer to the door. My heart pounded like a jackhammer in my chest as I turned the knob, praying the door wouldn”t creak and give me away.

The second the door was open wide enough, I threw myself through the gap. Greg lunged for me and snaked an arm around my waist, and before I knew what was happening, he slammed me face-first into the ground. He pinned me there, half in and out of the doorway, one hand gripping my hair while the other forced my face into the rough wood of the step.

My vision blurred, my head pounding from where it connected with the wooden step. Greg”s voice was a venomous hiss in my ear. ”I”m taking you home, you little slut. You honestly think I wouldn”t find you?”

”Go fuck yourself,” I choked out, my breath stolen by the pressure on the back of my skull.

”Such spirit,” he taunted, tightening his grip on my hair. ”I better remind you who owns you.”

I felt him grab the waistband of my tracksuit pants, and my heart raced in panic. I screamed into the wood, nails digging into the rough surface, trying to find something to hold onto – anything to keep me grounded as fear threatened to swallow me whole. God, please don”t let this happen.

”Get your fucking hands off me!” My voice was hoarse, raw from screaming, but I refused to give in.

”Always the fighter, huh?” He tried to kick my legs apart, but I had locked them together at the ankles, desperate to deny him any access. Tears streamed down my face as I continued to cry out, my throat burning with each strangled scream.

”Let me go, you sick bastard!”

”Aw, come on, sis. This is just like old times,” he sneered, his words sending chills down my spine.

”Fuck you!” I spat, rage and terror fuelling me as I struggled against his hold. But no matter how hard I fought, it seemed impossible to break free from his grasp.

Summoning every ounce of strength I had, I swung my arm back, elbow connecting with his head. The pressure on the back of my skull lessened for a moment, allowing me to move my head to the side. I gasped for air, but before I could catch my breath, he threw a vicious punch into the side of my face.

”Fuck!” I cried out, seeing stars as my vision went white and my ears rang. Still, I refused to let him win.

”Give it up, slut,” he spat, his breath hot and foul against my cheek. He pressed his hand down on the side of my face, grinding it into the wooden step. ”You owe me thousands since you left. I”ve lost everything, and it”s all your fault.”

”Go to hell,” I snarled through gritted teeth, struggling harder to keep my legs locked together. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest, but I couldn”t give in. If I did, I”d be giving him exactly what he wanted – control over me. And there was no fucking way that was going to happen.

”Face it, Tempest. You belong to me.” His voice dripped with venom.

The earth seemed to stop moving as Greg finally managed to wrench my legs apart, settling a knee between them. Panic and disgust surged through me, my heart hammering in my chest.

”You”re dead,” he growled, shoving his hand into the waistband of my pants and starting to move it towards my core.

”Fuck you!” I screamed, but even as the words left my mouth, a distant rumble caught my attention. The sound was unmistakable – the roar of motorcycle engines.

My lips curled into a smile despite the situation, and Greg noticed. He looked up, his eyes narrowing as he tried to discern the source of the noise. Seizing the opportunity, I screamed Corvus”s name at the top of my lungs, hoping that he”d hear me.

”Shut up!” Greg snapped, yanking me up by my hair. Pain seared through my scalp as he dragged me down the back steps and into the overgrown yard.

”Corvus!” I yelled again, desperation lending strength to my voice. Please, please make it in time...

”Let go of me, you sick fuck!” I snarled, tearing myself from Greg”s grip. A large chunk of my hair remained in his hands, but I didn”t care – all that mattered was getting away from him.

But he was relentless. He lunged for me, grabbing me around the waist and pressing the cold metal of his gun against my temple. ”If you move one more time, I”ll shoot you!” he threatened, his voice low and dangerous.

I knew he wasn”t bluffing; if I wanted to survive this, I”d have to outsmart him. My mind raced, searching for any way to turn the tables on my brother. As I struggled to think, the motorcycle”s roar grew closer.

”Corvus!” I screamed again, my voice cracking as terror clawed at my insides. The roar of the bikes outside was like a lifeline, and I clung to it with everything I had.

The house shook with the force of the crashing sounds coming from within. And then, just when I thought my heart might burst from the tension, Corvus burst through the back door. He was a dark avenging angel, guns in each hand, his eyes blazing with lethal intent.

”Jesus Christ,” I breathed, relief flooding through me. He was here, my saviour, my protector. But the situation was far from over, and I knew we were still dancing on the edge of a knife.

”Lower the gun… now,” Corvus ordered Greg, his voice as calm and cold as ice. It sent shivers down my spine even as it strengthened my resolve. This was not a man to be trifled with, and if my brother had any sense, he”d heed that warning.

”She belongs to me,” Greg spat, defiance etched across his face. But beneath it all, I could hear the flicker of fear.