Page 66 of Brutal King

“On paper, yes. I want a first-hand account.”

“I tell you where he is. You let us go. That was the deal,” she reminds me.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to make deals with the Devil?” I give her my most devilish grin. “Make yourself comfortable. You’re not going anywhere until I’ve put a bullet in Clive’s head. And if you try anything, I’ll put one in yours too.”

Me: You’ve guaranteed Skye’s failure. All she wanted was to protect her little sister. Out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll delay their death sentence. Bring me your father by seven, and I’ll spare them.

I send Arran the text, along with the address he’s to meet me at. He’s to bring his father to the warehouse, and no one else. Just as they did with Skye, my men cage them in when they arrive. They’re removed from the Tahoe they rode in and searched for weapons. Then, they are shoved into one of my SUVs and driven to me.

My stomach clenches as they arrive at Clive’s old home. It’s the place where his daughter was murdered, not by Thomas Cameron as Arran has believed for years, but by one of Clive’s own hired men. It was a mistake. The wrong person was taken out. But her blood is still on his hands.

It seems fitting that I should end his life here. Sort of a two-for-one kind of thing. I’ll avenge my fatherandhis daughter with a single bullet.

There are two coins in my right hand waiting for Clive. I clutch them as I watch Clive and Arran exit the SUV through the filmy panels on the windows. The guards escort them through the house and into the front parlor.

I enter, Scarlet right behind me. My gaze is affixed on Clive. He’s on his knees next to his son. Both are facing the kitchen, the place where Catherine’s body was found. Clive glances in that direction once before lowering his head to stare at the floor.

“Good afternoon.” I greet them.

Behind Scarlet and I, two of my guys escort Skye and Maisel, each holding one of them while another follows with their bags.

Arran’s fury ripples off him in waves. He tries to stand, but Scarlet quickly shoves him back down.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” I warn.

“You have us,” he hisses. “Let them go.”

“But that wasn’t the deal.”

“Then what is it?”

Yes, I’m being dramatic, but I have a flair for it and I’ve been waiting for this moment for too long for it to be anticlimactic. “I’d likeherto tell you,” I say and point at Skye.

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Skye. I’m not asking again. Tell him our deal. What is your ticket to freedom?”

Trembling, she utters, “A bullet in Clive’s head.”

“And who must put it there?” I encourage her to continue, wanting to both slow down the moment and rush into it.

Skye glances toward her sister, who is quietly sobbing. Her breathing accelerates to the point I believe she’ll hyperventilate. “Me.”

I take pleasure in Arran’s shock and Clive’s sad resignation. It’s not that I want to traumatize Skye, but making her kill Clive while Arran watches… He will forever remember me and know that I’m capable of anything if he doesn’t heed my warning and shut down Maxton House and Asta.

I stand between Skye and Arran, forcing their attention back to me. “Your lovely Skye puts a bullet between Clive’s eyes, then they can grab those bags with their belongings and leave.”

“Why have her do it?” Arran asks in a surprisingly even tone. “I won’t blame her for it.”

I tilt my head as I study him. “Won’t you? Not even a little bit?”

“Just get it done with.” Clive, who has been quiet until now, finally speaks and his voice threatens to soften something inside me. It’s an old voice. Frail. Human.

Using every inch of hatred that I’ve nurtured over the years, I mimic him. “Just get it over with. Did my father use those same words when you and the others executed him? Oh, that’s right.” I pause and lift a finger. “My father wasn’t even given the chance to beg. He was gagged and riddled with bullets before he was tossed into the river.”

“Stephen deserved to die for the things he did,” Clive says with sudden verve. “As do I. So. Just. Do. It.”

“Not even a hint of remorse.” I tut. “You killed him because he figured out a way to gain power, and you envied him.”

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