Page 112 of Broken Skulls

He throws the card to the ground and immediately begins to grab planters. He throws them against the wall, dirt flying everywhere.

I jump to my feet, wrapping myself around his arm. With his other hand he takes out an entire shelf of Jacob’s precious plants.

“Stop!” I cry out.

He turns abruptly, staring down at me still hanging at his side.

The way he licks his lips makes me instantly release him. He grabs the front of my shirt and begins to back me up, knocking more plants over in the process.

He doesn’t stop until he has me against the wall.

“I’ll admit, my son sure does have good taste in women,” he says.

I don’t look away, because I have faith Jacob is coming.

He rests his forearm on the wall behind me, putting his face directly in front of mine. So close, I can smell the beer on his breath. He tips his head. “You don’t seem scared. You want this, don’t you?”

“Do you want to know why I’m not scared of you?” I whisper.

The man shakes his head, his gaze going to my mouth. “I don’t really care, honey, but you can tell me if you want.”

“Because Iknowyou’re going to be executed tonight.”

His eyes snap to mine, his brows arching. “How do you figure?”

“I don’t think you know your son as well as you think you do. But I’ll tell you, Jacob has grown into a man who protects what’s his.”

He runs his nose along the side of my face. “Is that so?”

“It is, and I just happen to be his.”

He laughs lightly, not the least bit intimidated.

The sound of Jacob’s knife going into his father’s back sends a shiver of satisfaction down my spine. His father grunts in my face before swaying away from me. I smile at him as he stares at me with wide eyes.

Jacob shoves him from me, pushing his dad to the ground. He’s naked and shaking with fury.

“You fucking bastard!” Jacob yells, dropping on top of him, stabbing his knife into his dad over and over and over again.

I slide to the floor and watch as the love of my life brutally slays his own father.

Blood, so much blood.

I cover my nose with my hand, struggling not to gag at the smell. Jacob doesn’t notice; he’s lost in his blood lust.

It’s too much.

When his knife slides into his dad’s eye socket, I decide I’ve got to stop him.

Cautiously, I approach him. “Jacob. Jacob, please stop. He’s dead. He’s dead, baby,” I tell him softly.

When I reach out to touch him, he swings his arm back and his hand hits me square in the face, sending me flying back against the wall. He continues to mutilate his father as I struggle to stay conscious.

Fuck. I grab my head, seeing stars.

All of a sudden, the house is full of commotion as men rush in, pulling Jacob off his father.

“Drop the fucking knife, brother!” Jackson barks at Jacob.

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