Page 170 of Overcast

With what? That comment has been fucking with me since she said it, and Harley Quinn fits her better than anything I’ve ever seen.

I get that she has morals, lived a life that didn’t involve bloodshed and violence—just molesting and lack of personal space—but she wants me. She craves more than my dick. I see it in her eyes, the way she reacts when I touch her. The way her heartbeat skips and scatters when I’m around her.

Shit, mine does the same thing but worse. My imagination is a little more crazy and unbalanced, wild scenarios in my head.

But I won’t force her, I can’t. She deserves the world, not mine.

“Some young guy,” Tony conveys before his chains rattle at his trying to remain standing. “He came with...a suitcase of money. Brought it...I guess to show us we’d be paid.”

“How much?”

“50k.”

These dumb fucks.

I pinch my lips around my weed. “What do you know about Hollis and Bianca?”

“Who?” I tug on the trigger again, not giving a shit where I hit him just as long as I do.

“Fuck!“ He begins to seethe air through his teeth, now yanking on the chains because skinny, Italian Tony over here has a temper on him.

“You know you’re not the first one to try this shit, right?” I suck in another hit, place the barrel of the gun in my lap.

“Yeah,” he deadpans.

“And they failed. So what makes you dicks think you’re going to get lucky again?”

“More dudes,” he replies off a feeble shrug. “I didn’t make the plan.”

Rising from my chair, I take one last inhale off my blunt, making sure all the cannabis hits my lungs before placing it down in an ashtray.

Every ounce of stress, anger, and Stormi seeps through my pores. Her being pissed at me takes the cake, the cherry on top is the men still coming for my sister and her family.

I’m done playing nice.

I’m done waiting.

I’m fucking done dodging Stormi because she denies how she feels about me.

She’ll get over Bianca because she isn’t shit.

However, I’m not completely naive enough to believe it won’t end how it was supposed to all along.

I need to let this go. I need to let her go. I need to stop putting myself in this spot where it’s just going to cause unwanted emotions. I feel them now, why continue on?

Strolling towards Tony, I stop in front of him, now, peering down at the hardwood floors with limited energy. He’s not telling me something. No man is going tracking through the woods unless he knew my cabin was there.

Reaching for his hair, I yank back on his head, getting him to look up at me. Brown eyes barely make it past his heavy eyelids, and I feel zero remorse for what I’m about to do.

Seizing the jagged blade in my back pocket, I spear it into his side. “That’s for thinking you were going to kill my sister.” Ripping it out, I hit him again in the thigh, ignoring his cries of pains blaring in my face. “This is for attempting to kill my nephew and brother-in-law.” Another jab but to his back. “This is for breaching my property.”

Everything blurs and mutes itself then.

I can feel Tony sag forward, the adrenaline coursing through my veins, and the anxiety of what I’m feeling between Stormi and I.

I force myself to focus and finish this out.

“And this is for the possibility of you touching what’s mine, what I want, what I wish I could have.” The knife in my hand makes one clean swipe across his throat, and his eyes gloss over. He knows that was the final action that would end his fucked up existence. “It’s been real, Tony.”

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