Page 60 of Bears Not Included

It’s plain to see that she was once beautiful. There’s a similarity about her, and I place it immediately. She’s related to Deacon. Possibly his sister. And my heart shatters apart.

Deacon takes her hand, and the gesture is so soft and gentle that my eyes fill with tears. The doctor approaches him again, persistently, but it looks as if they know each other personally.

“Deacon, please. It’s been twelve months. You have to let her go.”

Chapter Thirty

Deacon

It’s a wonder I let the doctor live when everything inside me wants to kill him, brutally, along with everyone else in this building. I’d have done so if she hadn’t come to stand beside me, her powdery scent reaching inside my soul and soothing me. I would have killed everyone in this building except her.

I slowly shift my attention back to the doctor—the best in the world. I bought this whole fucking hospital because of its state-of-the-art medical equipment and then I took this whole floor only for Bianca. I would have kept her at home where a floor was dedicated to similar medical apparatuses, but the equipment that could save her life was already melded to the walls of this hospital and couldn’t be moved.

“Nothing happens to her.” My words are final. I’m not killing my sister.

Fuck.

One year ago, Bianca was a vibrant twenty-year-old college student. She had the world at her feet. But more than that, she was sweet and kind and she didn’t deserve this. This was supposed to happen to me. I should be a fucking vegetable tethered to machines, already dead inside.

My sister is a replica of my mother. When my mother died, I promised I would take care of Bianca, but I let this happen. All it took was one drunk driver to take away her life on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon when she was coming out of a coffee shop. He was the last person I killed, and I felt nothing. No satisfaction. No vengeance achieved. I felt empty. I still do.

I can’t kill Bianca. I don’t fucking care what anyone says. I’m not pulling the plug on her. I fucking won’t. I won’t kill my own sister.

“Deacon, I know this is difficult,” Sandland says. He’s her chief doctor, the only man I trust with her life. “But you have to consider—”

“No,” I say again. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. Maybe if I suffer long enough, she’ll wake up.

“Jesus Christ, Deacon. She has no brain activity. Her organs are shutting down—”

“And I said no.” Sandland is one of the few men I’ll allow to talk to me that way. But my answer is not changing.

“If anything happens to her, I will kill your entire family, Sandland, and I’ll make you watch. If anything happens to her, I will kill everyone in this fucking room. Do you understand me?” I grab Livia’s hand and storm out. I’m not myself. It’s only when I come here that my control gets washed away by the smell of the disinfectant they use to clean the floors beneath my feet.

Fucking hell.

I drag her into the elevator and press the button for the ground floor. She’s trembling ever so slightly beside me, yet I know she’s trying to hide it. I need this girl. We need her. She just doesn’t know how much.

“I don’t know her, but if it were me in that position, I wouldn’t want to be kept—”

I don’t let her finish her sentence before I grab her and pin her against the wall of the cubicle, my hand around her throat. Her soft body is a piece of fragile treasure against my wrath. She looks at me bravely, unafraid of the time bomb I am and what I might do to her.

“She’s your sister,” she says, her breath staggering, and I squeeze a little more. “Don’t let her be that way—”

I shut her up immediately by pressing the emergency button to stop the elevator. As my hand continues to contract around her throat, I remove my belt and unbuckle my cock from my boxer briefs and pants.

She’s still trying to tell me not to let my sister live that way. She’s pleading with me.

Fuck. I don’t want her to say what everyone else is saying. So I shut her up again—the only way I know how right now. With my cock free, I use my other hand to creep under the skirt of her waitress uniform.

I roughly pull aside her panties, not checking if she’s wet for me or not. I penetrate her hard, all at once and so deeply that I lifted her off her feet and crushed her against the steel wall of the elevator and my body. The instant I’m inside her, my cock grows to its mammoth size, and fuck, I feel her wetness start to soak my hardness.

“Deacon,” she says, and my name on her lips tells me everything that I am—a killer being punished for killing people, and now I have to do the same to my sister.

I drive deeper into her, bumping against her cervix and relishing her strangled purr as she feels me there. But nothing I do—nothing Callen, Mason, or I could do to her—will ever take away the innocence that blooms from this girl’s soul. She’s an angel with my cock inside her.

But I want to punish her for siding with everyone else, so I fuck her harder, and she takes it, getting so wet for me that the only sounds I hear are her harsh panting breaths and when I hammer inside the well of her wetness.

“Deacon please—”

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