Page 132 of Lawless God

He walks to where Wynne is sitting in his armchair, his legs trembling, his foot anxiously tapping the rug.

“It’s all okay, my friend,” he tells Nathan. “This…was just a misunderstanding, alright? I was fucking with her, okay?”

“Did you sign?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” He points to the contract with a shaky finger.

Nate nods as he takes the contract, folds it in half, and puts it in the inside pocket of his jacket. “Very good.”

“Misunderstandings happen when you bring North Shore girls here, Nathan.” Wynne laughs to himself, the sound low in his throat and disgusting. “I thought she was a whore.”

I try to keep listening and stay in touch with the situation, but my head is pounding, and a raging pain hammers in my ankle. It keeps bringing my attention back to my own body.

Everything sounds like I’m underwater, and my heart beats unsteadily. I keep having to take shallow breaths, unsure if I’m breathing at all.

I blink at what’s in front of me, trying to focus on the room. Nate stands right next to Wynne, his hand creeping up.

“You thought she was a whore, huh?” He suddenly grabs him by the hair at the back of his head.

The room tilts slightly. Or maybe it’s me. I try to focus again, but everything feels so far and quiet.

Another blink, and Wynne’s head is being smashed against the table.

“She is not a whore,” Nate hisses, punctuating the last word by smashing the man’s head against the table again.

I hear cries and apologies, but I can’t quite make them out.

“She.” Smash! “Is.” Smash! “My.” Smash! “Wife.” He drops the bloody man, who falls off his seat to his front, and he grabs the cushion that serves as the back of the armchair.

Kneeling next to him, he presses the cushion to the back of his head, reaches inside his jacket, and pulls out a gun.

“Nate,” I call out weakly. I try to stand up, but fall right back onto the sofa, too lightheaded to even move. “Don’t.”

My husband presses the gun against the cushion.

“Nate,” I try again.

And shoots.

He looks up at me across the room, a dazzling smile brightening his face. “Yes, little sunflower?”

Breathing through my mouth, I attempt to stay conscious as the vertigo worsens.

He stands up, puts the gun back in his holster, and strides all the way to me. Kneeling on the floor in front of me, he takes hold of my jaw with a gentle hand, forcing me to look straight at him.

“Breathe for me, baby.”

“I wasn’t gonna do it,” I croak. “Put you back in prison.”

He nods. “I know.”

“Y-you defended me at dinner tonight. I know you had a talk with him.” I gulp a breath.

He doesn’t say anything, so I keep whispering hushed words I want him to hear. I feel like I’m dying, and I want him to hear them before I do.

“I wasn’t going to betray you…I swear. I th—think.” My eyes flutter shut, and for a second, I feel myself falling, but I snap them open again. “I think I’m starting to like your crazy ass.”

He smirks. It’s beautiful, devilish.

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