Page 98 of Entombed In Sin

“Where is she?” he growls out slowly.

I glance over at her body, then up at her head. “She’s sitting here with us while we wait for you. I’m feeling generous, so I’ll allow you to come inside and kiss her goodbye. That's more than you gave us when you took what’s ours.”

“If you’ve touched a single hair on her head, I will bring the entire Chicago PD down on you. I have pictures, recordings, and witnesses that will testify against you about what you’ve been up to in my city,” Angel Eyes threatens. “I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Oh yeah? Call for backup. I dare you,” I challenge with a grin he can’t see. “Let’s see how that plays out for your wife, shall we?”

His huff of anger doesn’t go unnoticed. I smile. When he speaks, I swear he’s talking through clenched teeth. “Let’s talk this out.”

“Sure, we can all sit around in a circle, chat, hell, maybe we even hold hands and sing ‘Kumbaya’,” I agree pleasantly. “All you have to do is come inside, Ronny.”

“Let me talk to ShayShay first,” he snarls.

I glance at the ceiling fan, losing my patience with the demand he’s in no position to make. “You have fifteen seconds to get in this fucking house, or we’ll tear her head off.”

With that, I hang up.

“Knox, how are you doing in there?” I call as I listen to the heavy footfalls coming our way as Angel Eyes approaches the front door.

“Almost done! But we need to go. She needs real medical attention.”

“She’ll get it, as soon as we’re done in here,” I promise as Sagan and I shift to face the door as a key is shoved inside the lock. Sagan adjusts his grip on his knife while I pull out mine. My teeth gnash together, and I smile in victory as the door is shoved open. I lunge forward, raising my blade—not caring if anyone outside can see me.

But I didn’t anticipate Angel Eyes wielding a goddamn gun.

Fuck.

My eyes land on the barrel of the gun just as it goes off. The bullet soars over my right shoulder, barely missing me. I stumble back, lose my footing and go down. Two more loud bangs go off, but both bullets miss as I land on my back.

As swift as lightning, Sagan reacts—grabbing Ronny’s wrist that holds the gun and yanking him through the door into the house. The old man elbows Sagan in the chest, but the move doesn’t slow my brother down as he throws his weight into Angel Eyes. They both slam into the wall. A picture frame falls and shatters but is ignored. Angel Eyes moves to knee my brother, but Sagan jerks back. At the same time, Angel Eyes attempts to jerk his wrist out of Sagan’s firm hold. The movement causes the gun to go off again. This time, a bullet hits the corpse that’s sitting in the recliner. The force causes the chair to rock a little.

I get to my feet while reaching for my knife that’s fallen beside me. With a deep snarl, I join the fray.

My blade swings through the air. It tears through skin and tendons as it rips through Angel Eyes’ wrist holding the gun. He hisses in agony and drops the weapon. I move to dig the blade into his side next while Sagan holds him, but the old man headbutts my brother, dazing him, then throws his weight to the side. The tip of my blade misses by inches.

He turns toward us rather than away and throws himself at Sagan. My brother’s fist slams into his nose and his knee comes up into the older man’s gut. Neither attack slows him down. Ronny charges at Sagan. He hits my brother like a linebacker hitting a brute sled, knocking Sagan clear off his feet. As Sagan’s back hits the ground and Angel Eyes makes a move to smash his heavy, booted foot down on his sternum—my blade whistles as I leap forward and drive it down into his back. The force of my attack causes him to stumble away from Sagan.

To his credit, as my knife plunges into Angel Eyes’ shoulder, he barely flinches. I twist the blade, making sure he feels the pain, then pull it free to let him bleed. I don’t move quick enough. Or maybe Angel has some sort of supernatural speed because he turns so fast, his fist flying, that I don’t have time to move. I manage to jerk my head back, but not far enough. His fist clips my chin, and I swear as that move alone causes me to stumble.

Fuck, that hurt. Are his fists made of steel?

My recovery is swift and as I twist out of the way of his second punch, I manage to shove my shoulder into his side, throwing him off balance. His body hits the wall. The sound of drywall crumpling upon impact is loud in the small space.

Without hesitation, I make sure my blade lands in his gut. He barely spares the breath to grunt. Instead, he reaches down, attempting to grab my wrist and yank the blade out of his body.

Rather than let him think he’s getting out of this, I press my weight into the blade to pin him to the wall. With a cold smirk,tell him, “You wanted to talk to ShayShay, and you came in under fifteen seconds. I’ll uphold my end of the bargain. Want to say goodbye?”

“Where the fuck is she?” he demands, stilling in his progression to remove my knife from his gut.

Sagan appears beside me, his mouth curving into a cold smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He jerks his thumb upward. “She’s looking down on you like… well, like a littleangel.”

Angel Eyes stops fighting for a moment to follow the motion. His eyes slide toward the ceiling. When they land on his wife’s head spinning around comically above us, a sound like an iceberg cracking in half, slips past his lips, horror twisting his expression. His whole body goes slack as his eyes widen and mouth parts. I can almost feel his soul caving in.

I grin at the sight and sound of his pain; it pleases me more than the blood seeping around my hand from his wound.

Unable to help myself, I lean in close and whisper, “I can see why you settled down with that one. Her blood is just so pretty, isn’t it? I think I’ll use it as lube later when my Pretty Boy and pet are back in my bed.”

Neither my brother or I are prepared for Angel Eyes’ reaction. With a burst of strength, the older man shoves at us. Before I can brace myself, he grabs my shoulders and shoves his knee into my groin. Before the breath is even knocked out of me, he lets go to punch Sagan straight in the nose. I jerk forward, gasping for air.

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