Page 39 of Bear the Burden

Wesley really wished Morton would put some clothes on. Not because of his size, but because of his slimy personality. Wesley would prefer not to look at the guy’s body while being forced into becoming a drug runner.

Seth stood and walked away, returning moments later with a handgun. Then he held it out to Wesley.

Was this some kind of test? Why would he be given a weapon when he was being held against his will?

“What do you want me to do with this?”

“Rob a bank.” Seth gripped Wesley’s wrist tightly then placed the gun in his hand. “It’s for protection in case someone tries to rob you, dipshit.”

The gun felt like it weighed a ton. Wesley dropped it and shook his head. “I can’t shoot someone.”

Slowly, Seth bent and picked it up then aimed it at Wesley’s head. “Either you shoot the person trying to rob you, or I shoot you.” A malicious smile curled across his lips. “It’s an incredible feeling of power. Having someone’s life in your hands. You would be amazed at what people will do when you point this little thing at them.”

Wesley couldn’t breathe. He had never seen such pure evil in someone’s eyes before. It felt like he was staring into the cold face of death.

“Put that damn thing down before you accidentally shoot him,” Morton interjected.

Seth’s gaze remained fixed on Wesley, his smile still present as he spoke with heavy-lidded eyes. “I don’t do anything by accident.”

Finally, he lowered the gun, allowing Wesley to release a sharp breath of relief. The thought of shooting someone sickened him, but he would endure that feeling for a chance to end the demon.

He regretted not having the courage to use the gun when Seth had given it to him.

Wesley wasn’t even sure if bullets could kill a demon, but he wanted the chance to find out. Never before had he felt such intense hatred toward someone.

Still smiling, Seth beckoned Wesley to follow him. “Come with me and I’ll run everything down to you.”

Glancing to his left, he saw the way Morton studied Seth, as if just now realizing how unstable the guy was. Wesley had figured that out the first time they’d met. How could Morton have been so oblivious?

Turning, Wesley had taken a few steps, praying for a way out of this nightmare situation when a knock sounded on the front door.

Morton walked toward the door and pulled it open, seemingly unconcerned with the fact he was only wearing boxers.

Wesley’s heart hammered when he saw Killian standing there. Where was Hyett? He wanted his mate so badly he was on the verge of tears.

Killian scratched at his shoulder, seeming fidgety. “I was told you could help me out.”

What was the guy up to? Wesley hoped this was some sort of ruse because Killian was too good at making it seem like he needed a fix.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Morton closed the door, but Killian quickly blocked it with his hand. “C’mon, man. Help a brother out. I got three grand to spend.”

Hyett’s brother continued to ignore Wesley’s presence. It was as if he didn’t even notice him standing there.

“Who referred you?” Morton asked suspiciously.

“Hyett.”

Wesley’s heart leaped at the mention of his mate’s name. He wanted to beg Killian to look at him, to acknowledge he was standing there, to ask why Hyett hadn’t come himself.

“Never heard of him.” Once again, Morton tried to close the door.

But Killian stopped him again. “You really should stop doing that,” he snarled. “It’s starting to piss me off.”

Seth sniffed the air and then gripped Wesley’s upper arm tightly.

“He’s a real son of a bitch when he’s mad,” Hyett spoke in a low, menacing tone as he emerged from the kitchen with his hands clasped in front of him.

Wesley nearly broke down crying as he gazed at his mate. Seth’s evil expression moments ago was nothing compared to the deadly glint in Hyett’s smoky-gray eyes.

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