Page 58 of Dust to Dust

I didn't respond but rested my palms at my side as I kept walking up and down. "She's not going to like you with no hair. Trust me. The ladies love hair. Sit down and save some energy." He added. His long blonde hair was pulled back in a low ponytail.

"How long till we land?" I asked Dante, who was calmly sitting with his laptop on the table. Dante always wore a mask of calm.

He didn't look up from the screen, "Five minutes shorter than last time you asked." He stated.

Damian was in the cockpit with one of our pilots as we took the trip from Vermont to Montreal. For me, the trip wasn't short enough. It seemed endless as I imagined what Franco was doing to my wife.

I don't know what she was thinking. If I ever see her again, I'll fucking kill her myself. It was beyond reckless and stupid. It made no sense.

My phone rang, and I scrambled to grab it. I didn't bother seeing the screen. I answer. "Hello!" I shouted in a raised voice. Anders grunted in the corner and fought a smile. Let's see how he handled the love of his life in the hands of a monster.

"Titan," I knew that accent. It was refined, arrogant and Russian.

"Anton," I stated in disbelief. Dante stood, and Anders grabbed his ax. I put him on speaker. My mind was such a cluster fuck. That's where my brothers would come in handy. Dante and Anders come to my side like pillars to ground me.

"You passed."

"What?"

"You passed your rite." Anton said with pride that didn't make sense to me, "Nova passed for you." I heard his words, but they didn't make sense to me. All I heard was Anton mention Nova's name. She passed, so that meant she killed Franco, right? Why hasn't Anton mentioned her…unless she's dead too?

I saw red, so much so that Dante grabbed the phone from me before I crushed it in my palm. I watched his lips move, but I couldn't hear anything but the buzzing in my ears. Dante was talking, and then Anders grabbed me, but I snapped.

We fought, beast to beast. The plane felt like it shook from our quarrel. A sharp turn of the plane jolted me; it wasn't just our fight, but the plane had changed course. Anders used that to his advantage as he gained the upper hand and pinned me to the floor.

Anders pressed his forearm on my throat, and my vision blurred. His green eyes were a shade of light jade. They pierced into me, "Don't fight me, brother. It's ok." He said as my oxygen was slowly cut off. Darkness tunneled my vision before he let me inhale a full breath again. But it was too late. I passed out and found her in my mind's darkness. The only woman I ever loved.

Chapter 46

Ihad been stabbed before, back in prison, that is. It was a small two-inch shiv. Nothing compared to the six-inch steak knife that sliced through me like butter. I had never been shot, but I imagine this hurt more because the blade had to come back out, unlike a bullet.

Franco's face lit up with glee as he twisted the knife clockwise in my stomach. The monster had stepped out from behind the tailored masked.

The Kings' were beasts; darkness lined their souls. Franco was a different kind of demon. The Kings and all their brothers struggle daily to not tip over Franco's line. My new family still had some humanity. Even a tiny seed of hope could save a soul. Franco had nothing. He's the shell of a man that a demon had possessed.

I was weaponless, blood poured out from my deep wound, and at this rate, Franco was one hundred percent going to kill me. I rolled the dice and got close to winning but lost. The house always wins, and currently, I'm in Franco's house.

I've got nothing else to lose. Dignity be damn. When you cage a lion, expect its claws to come out. My fingers curled in on themselves, bunching up fabric. I didn't even realize I had grasped Franco's suit jacket after he stabbed me.

That's good, Nova, focus,Ghost chanted like a cheerleader shaking her pom poms.We are close to your target.

I nodded. Franco slowly began to pull the knife out, so I reacted. I could see from the gleam in his eyes he thought I was about to beg. He was wrong. I made my move as I cupped the sides of his face. He dug the knife lower, making sure to cut further as he removed his weapon. Then using my thumbs, I sank them into his eyes.

He didn't expect that.

Like the others he had killed, he thought I was down for the count after one blow. That I would grovel for his mercy!

"Guard!" He bellowed.

I glanced over my shoulder as I locked my thumbs into his sockets. I thought I'd see the huge guard running towards me like a linebacker. Instead, he remained standing at the door, just watching.

Watching and waiting.

Holy fuck! He's not with Franco. This guard was with The Rites of Passage—an audience to my passing or failing.

It gave me hope because that meant it was just Franco and me.

Don't forget about me. It's you and me versus Franco! Ghost beamed.

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