Page 62 of Kortlek

He curses under his breath, harshly handing me the gun. Once that one’s been disposed of, I give them a bright smile. They’re not scared, but not too brave, either. They don’t know what to expect of me, and I like that.

“Now,’’ I chuckle. “Tell me everything there is to know about Wyatt Chambers. Or Karl Brown, whichever you prefer.’’

“And if we don’t?” The driver asks. His jaw is clenched, and it makes me smile. He’s so cute when he’s helpless. He’d make an amazing prey.

In response, I remove the trigger from my gun.

Now, all the amusement and cheerfulness disappear from my face. My eyes narrow at him, challenging him to test me further. My lips thin into a line, and the grip on my gun tightens significantly.

“You’ll die. Tick-tock, choose carefully.’’

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

To say that the De Santis family is loaded would be the fucking understatement of the century.

The night Arlo and I met seems like a distant memory at this point, since it happened too many years ago, but I still vividly remember that night.

Eva and I just left the foster family, and she was trying, and failing at the time, to get clean. She was already hanging around people that I wanted to fucking kill, but she wouldn’t let me. One night, one of her so-called friends got a little handsy.

He didn’t go further than that because I knocked his teeth out.

However, that wasn’t the last I’d seen of the motherfucker. Eva distanced herself from that crowd a little, and a couple of months later, I fought him in the ring. I’m not sure, but the way he seemed to taunt and challenge me made my blood fucking boil.

I killed him in the ring.

My first kill, and the first overkill.

Men like him don’t deserve to live. They’re the scum of the Earth, and my only regret was not doing it sooner. He died a pathetic death, just like the life he lived. He deserved every bit that came to him, and I’m not regretting a damn thing.

That night, Arlo was there to watch the fight for the first time.

He approached me once I was sent away to the locker room until it was determined whether the bastard lived or not. He offered this entire thing to go away because despite it being an illegal ring, no one would keep a killer, and the chance of getting arrested was high.

The only thing he wanted in return was for me to join his family.

I accepted on the spot.

Lately, things have been rocky between us. Half because he doesn’t like the fact that I’m fucking his little sister, half because sometimes, I push his buttons just to see what’ll happen. It never ends up being a pretty sight, and given the high and thick tension revolving around Wyatt’s situation, he hasn’t exactly been thrilled to be provoked on the daily.

He hates me around Aria.

It comes from a place of concern for both Aria and me. I know it’s not malicious and that he’s trying to look out for both of us. Aria has burdens that no one ever should carry alone, and I’m too fucked up to give her the life she deserves.

But I’m trying.

I’m trying to be a better man for her. To prove to both Arlo and Hudson that no one will ever make Aria as happy as I can. I don’t know when the lust and desire for her grew into something more, into something so fucking deep.

I’m drowning in my feelings, and I don’t know how to properly tell her.

She’s a fucking saint.

She’s not pushing me; she’s patiently waiting. Even when I don’t speak, I see the way her eyes soften. She understands me more than I understand myself. That thought alone is fucking scary. Yet, at the same time, it’s something that I don’t want to disappear.

She makes the darkness around me a little less haunting, a little less suffocating, and a whole lot lighter.

Which is why I’m standing here, behind the glass window of the basement of the De Santis family, watching carefully. The main basement is connected to their mansion, but this one? It’s built on their property, underground, with an entrance so well hidden that I had no idea it was even there in the first place.

It’s a torture chamber, of sorts.

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