Page 86 of Vengeful Rotten Casualties

He barks a laugh. “You give yourself too much credit, MiKayla,” he replies. “Whatever you’ve got planned won’t work.”

I pause and glance to the side at those words. Thomas Kincaid sits in the passenger seat, his hands bound and tied to the handle at the top of the door. I’m not stupid, I know it wouldn’t take much strength on his part to rip himself free. The real reason he hasn’t is the gun in my hand, pointed at him.

“What do you think I’m going to do?” I prompt him, curious more than anything else where he sees this night going since it’s quite obviously not going the way he planned it now.

“It’s clear you’re planning on killing me,” Thomas replies.

How simplistic. Of course, he would think that. Honestly, anyone would. After all the terrible shit he’s done, to me, to my mother, to Luc, I can’t deny that there is a large part of me that wants to see him dead, to see his existence wiped from the world. Killing him might mean justice, but it certainly doesn’t mean revenge.

My revenge isn’t to see his lifeless body lying in a grave of his own making. My revenge is to see that life of his drain slowly from his eyes. To watch as he realizes that the empire he was born into, the power he built for himself along with it, go up in flames. My revenge is to give him everything he gave me—degradation, humiliation, fear, hopelessness. He deserves all that and worse.

“You think I want to kill you for the things you’ve done,” I repeat absently.

“Don’t you?” he replies.

I shrug, keeping one hand on the steering wheel and the other gripped tightly on the gun’s trigger. The dial of the speedometer inches closer and closer to a hundred as I blow through another red light.

Dangerous. I’m being far too dangerous. And reckless. I can’t stop. There’s a buzzing electricity beneath my skin that’s forcing my movements, keeping me from slowing down. There’s no more logic in this save for what I’ve already planned.

“Thisisabout what you’ve done,” I tell him honestly. “It’s about my mother and me. It’s about mysister.”

Thomas stiffens in his seat. I feel it more than see it and when I finally slow the car enough to take a new turn, I glance over at him to find that his dull blue eyes are glaring back at me. With his upper lip curled back and his teeth flashing in the passing lights, he’s dropped all pretense of his human facade.

“Did you think no one would ever find out?” I guess with a smirk. He always underestimated me.

“The girl is irrelevant,” Thomas spits at me. “She’s dead.”

Liar.I know for a fact that’s not true. My own information revealed that he hadn’t even had contact with the child he and my mother had together for several years. She’s still very much alive. And after tonight, I’m going to find her. I’m going to bring her to Luc and everything will change. As soon as she’s safe, the last piece to this puzzle will fall into place. The curtains will close and the story will end.

I take the next curve too fast and jump the sidewalk, the wheels of Luc’s BMW flying up and slamming back down as I reenter the road. Thomas jerks against his bound hands and curses.

“If this is all about that fucking bastard,” he snaps, “then it’s too fucking late for it.”

“No, it’s not.” I sigh and shake my head. “Do you really think I’m too stupid to verify shit?” Of course he does.

“Stupid?” Thomas eyes me. “No. MiKayla, you’re anything but stupid. In fact, I have to commend you for getting this far. Truly, it’s impressive. You’ve got my son wrapped up tight in your little pussy, don’t you?” I jerk to the side, glaring at him as he shakes his head. My foot presses down harder on the gas. “You had him trained hard before he ever fucked you, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about—”

“Oh no?” Thomas sidles closer—or at least, he tries to. “You think I wasn’t fully aware of how attached he was to you back then? I could see it in his eyes—his love for you. His dedication. When I fucked you that first time, it was a blessing to realize that I’d taken something from him.”

The car jerks to a stop. My chest pumps up and down as the world fades to the background.

A firm,meaty hand presses down against the back of my neck, smashing my face harder against the glass surface of Thomas Kincaid’s several thousand-dollar desk. My breath smudges the surface. Air wafts over the backs of my legs as the black dress I wore to my mother’s funeral is dragged up. The ends of the skirt are flipped over my lower back.

Heat fills my skin, burning me alive from the inside out. Tears fill my eyes.What the fuck am I doing?

“Shhh.” Thomas croons behind me as the sound of his descending zipper echoes in my ears. The jingle of his belt buckle loosening scratches against the inside walls of my head.

No no no no no no no no.Why is this happening? Why is it happening tome?

“Put your hands on the desk,” Thomas commands.

Balling my fingers into fists, I comply. Humiliation spreads through me. My heart thunders against my ribcage until it damn near drowns out the sounds of people on the other side of the glass walls. Anyone could see what’s happening if they walk by, but they won’t stop it. It doesn’t matter that I’m sixteen. All that matters is that Thomas Kincaid is king here and he trapped me. His prey.

I close my eyes as my underwear is pulled down. He doesn’t even bother to remove them, they simply hang between my knees as my legs shake and my body goes first hot and then cold and hot all over again. Like we’re fighting off a disease, but there’s no internal enemy to kill. There’s no nature of any kind that I can resist. Just this—just him. A man.

“I can see why Luc is so taken with you.” Thomas’ words filter over my ears, making my shoulders rise as I turn my face into the desk. Tears leak out at the mention of Luc.

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