Page 116 of When Kings Fall

“Chill?” Lynch gritted out. He snapped his fingers behind him and his two guys rose to their feet. “Nah, the heat’s about to get turned up all the fucking way. You’re nervous. Even for you. Something is off.” He pulled his phone out and typed for a moment, before stowing it away.

Not five seconds later, the missing two guys burst out from a closed door that I recalled was the kitchen.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

“We can’t retreat,” Brianna said. “I won’t, Levi.”

“The plan’s gone off the rails, but I’m always a fan of improvising and cutting another path through. Ready to move?”

“Absolutely,” she responded resolutely.

In fact, she beat me to it, bursting from our cover and crossing the threshold into the living room and tossing her blade through the air.

It ripped into the shoulder of one of the guys standing in front of the couch, driving right through his flesh and embedding in the pleather behind him, pinning him to it. He roared and flailed.

And then all eyes were on us.

Through the rest, all I saw were Lynch’s soulless fucking orbs of depravity.

He looked at his soldier in pain and then turned away, not giving a fuck, his attention on me and Brianna.

His lip curled as he took us in. “You’ve grown up well.” He raked his eyes over Brianna none too subtly. “Especially you, pretty princess.”

A snarl escaped me before I could even begin to reel it in and then my blade left my hand almost of its own accord. Motherfucker!

It buried itself in Lynch’s left shoulder, blowing him back, a satisfying grunt escaping him.

All hell broke loose then.

Kyle ran away to the edge of the room as the four guys descended on us and the other two burst out from the game room.

“Beat them down, but keep them alive. We’re gonna play again like the old days.”

Piece of motherfucking shit!

His callback to that nightmare and the threat to make us live to repeat it was so fucking despicable, it triggered my bloodlust full-force.

And this time, I didn’t even try to hold it back.

Not one bit.

Pulling my bo-staff from the holster at my belt, I snapped it down so it extended fully, and roared as I sprinted into the room, headed for the closest two by the kitchen.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Brianna toss her blade at the guy trying to help Lynch and his buddy also still pinned to the couch. It ripped into the throat of the shit, blood spraying every-fucking-where as she hit his carotid artery dead-on. Dead being the operative word, because he’d meet that fate any second. Nicely done, Wildflower.

I jabbed my staff into the gut of the closest one.

As he doubled over, I spun and swept it at the side of his head, making him stagger into the wall beside the kitchen door.

The other cheap suit with him came at me and threw his fist.

I brought my arm down, deflecting it easily, the asshole relying way too much on his humungous roided-out form, rather than precision. And then I swept my staff up, driving it into his chin and making his head snap back.

Before the two of them could fully recover, I was between them, jabbing and sweeping my bo-staff back and forth and taking them both on at once.

Cries and curses rang out, blood sprayed, cracks of broken bones filled my senses.

Music to my fucking ears.

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