Page 26 of Overcast

Not with my dick anyway.

* * *

I’m in the basement.

I’m in the basement with a plastic-wrapped Hostess cupcake that Mills shoved in my chest as some sort of peace offering.

A truce. But what is peace when chaos is enclosed tightly around my neck? When things shifted, and my stability was rocked when my sister was always supposed to stay out of this portion of my life.

But the past runs up to bite you in the ass, doesn’t it? Where and how I believed that I could keep Emric and Marty separate is beyond me.

Maybe I got too cocky.

Maybe I wasn’t careful enough.

Regardless, harmony and serenity won’t be something I’ll be basking in until my sister’s attempted killers and whoever orchestrated this shit are wiped out by my hands or whatever else I see fit at that moment.

Each creak and whine of the wooden stairs underneath me sets my nerves at an unbearable irritation.

I. Want. To. Kill. This. Woman.

I crave to feel her life leaving her body under my thumbs and palms. To watch the light leave those crystal blues.

One last plea to fill my ears before I deny it.

She nearly had me left alone. She was so close to taking the only thing I have left in this entire universe. And I always thought it’d be me that went first, especially with the line of work I’m in.

I’ve never mentally set myself up for Reagan dying before me. It’s not a good idea. I’m already a soundless menace to society and human beings with a bright perception of putting others at risk.

It’s not going to happen—it can’t. Plain and simple. I’ll burn this city down before I let someone touch Reagan again.

My eyes latch directly onto the blonde as I reach the bottom of the stairs, rocking back and forth on the ground with her arms wrapped around her stomach.

She doesn’t bother peering up at me, but I can see her trembling, absolutely terrified of me.

Good.

My plan is working.

Bishop’s, however...not so much.

My fingers crave to smash this stupid pastry and fuck this dumbass plan. She’s not going to rip her clothes off and let me in. I stabbed the bitch, she’s not stupid.

I don’t think.

“I brought you…” I clench my teeth because this nice crap is already grinding my gears. “Something to eat.”

Nothing.

Cool because this isn’t going to work.

Carelessly, I toss the plastic-covered treat at her feet, not giving a shit if she eats it or not.

Lowering myself to the floor in front of her, I analyze the blood-soaked quilt that Mills brought down here.

If I don’t get her to answer my questions first, she might bleed to death or catch an infection, and I’m not satisfied with that result. I also don’t care for Mills’s hospitality and being so cordial when he just got done bitching at me to get this over with.

“What’s your name?” If it wasn’t for her long hair hanging in her face, I never would’ve seen her shake her head slightly. “Don’t remember?”

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