Chapter 59
REGGIE
“Make as much mess as you want. I’ve got a team ready for cleanup,” Hunter tells me, clapping my shoulder.
“Appreciate it,” I tell him, shoving open the door.
The light inside is harsh and wrong, fluorescent spit across concrete and dry blood. Rowan slides his hand into Bella’s as if they’re walking into a movie, not a cellar where men end. She doesn’t flinch. Of course she doesn’t. She wants to watch. And whatever my Princess wants, she gets.
She’s most likely numb to this, just like me and Rowan are. It’s a way of life. Kill before they can hurt you. That’s the Quinn doctrine. It’s why we run the top of the fuckin’ food chain.
I look at the man tied to the chair in the middle of the room. A pathetic little rat of a man.
Silence eats the room as Rowan slams the door. I drag a wooden stool into the corner for Bella, like a throne for a girl who thinks she’s a queen of carnage. She squares up to me and inspects me the way a cat inspects a mouse.
“Did you order me some popcorn?” She steps in front of me. “Unlike you, I’m not a watcher. I’m a doer.”
I blink slowly. This wasn’t in the plan.
“Are you feeling particularly violent today, baby?” I ask, brushing hair from her face.
“I’ve had an emotional few days. I got some pent-up anger to release. I wanna picture this twat as Lyla.” She smiles like syrup.
Rowan bites back a laugh. I glare at him.
“How many times have you tortured a man to extract information?” I lean in and ask.
“You might call me Princess. I don’t behave like one. I know what I’m doing.”
She means it. I’ve seen the look before, the one that tastes like violence.
“Go for it, baby. We want names connected to The Preacher. They’re a hard push, they won’t talk. It’s a cult. We believe for trafficking women.”
Her eyes become razor slits on the frail thing in the chair.
“Monsters then. Can I have your gun, please?” She bats her lashes like it’s all a game.
Rowan steps in, places his hand in hers. He hands it over like an offering.
“Alive until he talks,” he reminds her.
“I’m not stupid,” she huffs, turning the gun over in her hands like it’s a toy she’s about to wreck.
“Nice piece, rockstar.”
She walks right up to The Crow. Slick hair, a map of bruises, a face that keeps trying to hide from what it is. He looks at Bella like he’s watching a storm come for him.
“Hi. I’m Bella,” she greets him sweetly.
I glance at Rowan. My blood burns inside my veins. This is hot. And it really shouldn’t be.
But, I’m also cautious. One wrong move by Crow and I’ll slit his throat.