Chapter 54
“Now this is an unexpected turn,” Calvano says.
I stare at him, and all I can think about is how I’m going to kill him.
I keep my face blank, because he loves reactions, and I’m not giving him that satisfaction.
Inside my head, I’m already mapping the room, counting bodies, angles, counting how many rounds I can fire before this turns into a full bloodbath.
I can feel the gun on my thigh, and it’s the only thing keeping me from moving right now.
He cut Wes apart just to make a point. He dragged him in here like damaged property. That makes me want to dump round after round into his gut and watch him choke on his own blood while he tries to hold his insides in on his own expensive floor.
“His life for yours,” he says, tilting his head. He drags his tongue across his teeth and stares straight at her. “Having you back is not a prize. You’re fucking disgusting to me.”
Isabella’s breathing turns fast and uneven. He stands up, supported by his stupid cane, and walks closer.
“That whore fucked my brother and had you. She should’ve killed you the moment you came out,” he hisses, lips shaking from anger. “Your mother’s pathetic life meant nothing. Keeping her alive right next to me was better than killing her, because I got to watch her suffer every single fucking day.”
He points at Isabella’s face. “You walking around with my name, my money, my power made me look weak. I had to pretend to give a shit while you existed under my roof. My status demanded the perfect family. But I wanted you dead every day you kept breathing.”
He laughs under his breath and takes a step closer.
“Men like Anderson were always around. I just decided to use it. I waited. I let you grow up. Then I planned to sell you off, get paid, and be done with you for good. Easy money. Clean ending.”
He leans closer, voice turning harsher.
“I just needed to follow the rules and keep you pure.”
Ah … Rules …
They were never made for me. But right now, I need to play by them.
“You can kill him,” I say apathetically.
Wes’s chest heaves harder, his eyes locking on me, hurt and disbelief crashing over his face. I hold his stare, unblinking.
“He’s a lost cause, anyway,” I continue.
“Nice. Really appreciate the loyalty,” Wes jeers with a bright, yet fake smile.
Isabella suddenly snaps forward and rips the gun from my thigh holster. She swings it up and jams it right at her father’s face, ready to blow his skull apart and paint the walls with him.
Every bastard in his crew jerks their weapons up at her at the same time. Cain and Judas tense up beside me, but they hold position and don’t try harder to break free.
“I don’t know why you think you still have the upper hand,” Calvano exhales, bored and irritated. “You’re pointing a gun because it’s the only way anyone here takes you seriously, and even then, it’s barely working.”
“Let him go,” she growls. “You want me. Your broken little daughter, ready to be sold.”
I roll my eyes, already pissed off and done with this shit. “Shoot him,” I bark at Calvano’s men.
“No!” Isabella shouts.
Wes’s eyes lock on mine, and he understands it without either of us saying a damn word. I give him the smallest nod.
“Shoot me,” he hisses, jaw tight, staring straight down the barrels aimed at him.
“Wes, no!”
“Don’t listen to her,” he growls, eyes cutting across every one of them. “Stop acting like scared little bitches and fucking shoot me.”
Isabella, defiant as hell, pulls the trigger on her own fucking father. The bullet slams into his shoulder, and the sound alone is enough to make something satisfied twist in my chest.
Blood sprays around. He staggers, and for a second, the whole room freezes. I bet nobody expected her to actually do it.
Then his men open fire together, a wall of gunshots aimed at Wes, at her, at all of us.
What they don’t know is that Grayson already fucked them over. Every single one of their guns is dead in their hands because he already disabled them before they even walked in. Now they’re just standing there like dumb fucks, pulling triggers on useless chunks of metal.
“What—?” Calvano snaps.
My smile spreads. “Now, it’s my fucking turn.”
The room erupts into chaos.
The boys wrench themselves loose from the pieces of shit holding them off and head straight for our weapons. Judas punches Levi, nearly knocking him out, takes the two guns, and tosses one to Cain.
People slam into each other and scramble for cover, while my boys and Isabella unload on anything that moves, dropping a few bodies just for a warm-up.
Wes shoves the bastards crowding him, while Isabella sprints to him and slices through his ties with the knife she picked on her way there from a corpse.
Two idiots try to shield Calvano. Judas puts bullets straight through their heads, blood spraying across the floor.
I shove these fuckers who hold me away, spin back, and sprint straight at the bastard Levi who took my weapons. I slam my fist into his face and feel his jaw crack under the hit, blood and spit flying as he drops to his knees.
“Missed me, you dumb piece of shit?”
I rip my weapons back from his useless hands, high on the violence.
Here are my fucking beauties.
“Mitch,” he mumbles, breathless.
I grab my machete and bring it down hard, straight through his arm. Bone snaps and flesh splits while he screams and thrashes, blood pouring everywhere. I shove him back with my boot, watching him choke on his own panic.
Someone slams into me and knocks me off balance, the machete ripping out of my grip and clattering across the floor. I hit the ground hard and twist fast, when I see who the hell it is.
Fucking Adrian, Alaric’s useless excuse for a son. Of course, he would be stupid enough to throw himself at me.
“I see your daddy hasn’t choked you in your sleep yet,” I hiss.
Adrian wipes blood from his mouth and smirks. “He talks about you sometimes. Calls you a mistake he plans to fix.”
“Tell him to get in line. I’ve buried better men than him, and I’ll bury you right on top of them.” I crack my neck. “You were born to die for his reputation, and I’m about to make it fucking happen.”
I drive forward until we slam into each other. I’m already pissed that this scrawny piece of shit thinks he can take me. I hook an arm around his waist and throw him straight into the ground, so hard it knocks the air out of him.
“Fucking asshole,” he grunts.
I bark out a sharp, unhinged laugh. I take a few slow steps back and spread my arms, giving him space to drag himself up. Where’s the fun in ending it fast?
I’m just getting started.
“You know, Adrian, parents always find a way to fuck their kids up,” I say, adrenaline still tearing through me.
I bend, grab the severed arm off the floor, and squeeze hard enough to make blood drip between my fingers.
“And your father is no exception.”
By the time he gets to his feet, I swing the chopped limb straight across his face.
“You should have killed me a long fucking time ago,” I breathe, and slam the arm into his face again.
I toss the severed arm aside and rush him. I drop low, rip him down, and lock his head between my thighs. I squeeze harder, crushing him until he starts to panic.
“B-Bane,” he chokes out.
“Say it again, let the walls do the same.”
I snap my legs tight and twist sharply, feeling his neck give.
I shove his body off me like trash once it’s done, and I stand up.
Alaric’s eyes lock on me through the chaos. I guess killing his son just made him more entertaining and interesting. I grin at him with blood still wet on my hands.
He scans every inch of the place. Ah, always looking for some bullshit angle to twist and shove up my ass.
That’s Alaric—the kind of filthy coward who acts clever because he’s too chickenshit to come at me head-on.
I squat, grab the machete, twist it once in my hand, and walk straight at him. I have no more patience left for his shit.
The bastard stomps toward Isabella, hands all over her before I can close the distance. He grabs her arm, slams her own gun to her head. She gasps, her brows pulled together.
“Lasciami andare, brutto figlio di puttana!” she screams, thrashing against him. Let me go, you ugly son of a bitch!
“No!” Calvano shouts.
Alaric hisses through his teeth, cocking the hammer. “Is that how you want it to be, Bane? Going after collateral damage? After what I’ve done for you?” he barks, spit flying, neck veins about to burst.
You fucking bitch.
My jaw locks. My pulse is screaming. The part of me that smiles is gone.
I look at him with nothing left inside. Whatever’s behind my eyes isn’t human anymore.
“Let her go,” I say calmly. “Because I’m going to tear your fucking throat out and feed it to you.”
Alaric snarls, dragging Isabella tighter against him, spit still wet on his chin. “Say goodbye, you psychotic fuck. I’m—”
A sharp crack splits the air.
His head jerks. Blood explodes out the side of his skull, and he drops like dead weight.
Isabella gasps.
I turn and see Judas standing there, hands wrapped around a goddamn sniper rifle. Smoke’s still leaking from the barrel.
He saved her. Put a hole through that bastard’s skull before I could.
I throw him a lazy salute, and he answers the same way.
I roll my shoulders, crack my neck, and bare my teeth.
Calvano’s next. And I’m going to make it hurt.
A gunshot rips through the air, and something tears into my shoulder, yanking me back hard.
What the fuck?
I look up and see Colton standing there, gun still smoking, face all twisted with nerves and dumb regret. That’s the asshole Isabella said has a family, and was one of the good ones?
Too fucking bad. I’m not in the mood.
I march straight at him. My shoulder is burning, but the pain just winds me tighter. He jerks the gun up again and pulls the trigger.
All I hear is a hollow click.
Out of bullets. Fucking beautiful.
I keep walking, the machete hanging loose in my grip, eyes locked on his.
Every thought in my head screams for more blood.
“No, Adam, wait—”
Too late.
The blade comes down and takes his head off.
“I never liked that asshole,” Wes snaps, stepping up beside me, a knife clenched in his good hand. His lip’s busted, one eye a little swollen, but he’s standing tall. “Always ran his mouth too much. Should’ve capped him yesterday.”
“Glad to see you’re still alive. At least now I’ll get to kill you myself.”
He snorts, shakes his head, and flashes that crooked smirk. “You ain’t shit. Your tricks didn’t work. Just like their busted-ass guns. That was a lucky shot.”
I give him a wink. “I had an old friend deactivate their guns.”
He raises an eyebrow. “And how the hell did you know they’d pulled it off?”
“I didn’t.”
He stares at me. “What?”
“I gambled.”
Wes clicks his tongue and exhales through his nose, trying not to laugh. “Asshole.”
“Dickhead.”
Suddenly, the air tastes like metal.
No, it’s not the air—it can’t be the air. My teeth clamp down, jaw locking as the first pulse rips through me.
“Adam, no!” Isabella shrieks across the room.
The current tears through me, and every muscle jerks hard enough to crack teeth.
Fuck …
I’ve experienced this before. I know how to fight it.
Fuck, Manson, ground yourself.
Control your breathing.
Ride it out.
Don’t let them see you break.
“Let him go!” she screams, louder.
Another surge hits, and my vision fractures into white shards. My spine and back bow.
And then …
Darkness.
Nothing.