Page 73 of Deadly Rival

Harrison lets out his horrible, braying laugh. I’m a world-class poker player, for fuck’s sake. I need to guard my feelings better.

“Oh. Oh my God, this is pathetic. You actually feel something for her, don’t you? You’re such a useless simp. Take a woman captive and fall for her? Who do you think will get her after you’re dead?”

If I die, she’ll be free, but Harrison doesn’t need to know that. I hate the thought of her back in his clutches almost as much as I hate imagining who Kendrick would pair her with if they kept her. No one would want her, given the trouble she’s caused.

God, what have I done?

Get it the fuck together. Poker face. Make him believe what I want. He needs to see me as a cold, sadistic bastard. An asshole just like him.

I sharpen my gaze and let a lazy smile spread across my face. “Oh, I feel something, all right. You have no idea what a good fuck she is. Seriously, man. It’s like she’s been starving for years and I’m the first man to let her eat. If I die, I pity whatever old bastard she gets passed to. They’ll be dead in a month from exhaustion.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sure. She’s a frigid bitch, and we both know it. But forget about her. Let’s talk about you. Who the fuck do you think you are to steal from my family?”

“Your family are low-life pieces of shit.” I keep my voice calm and mocking, and it riles him in a way nothing I’ve said about Ophelia managed to. He puffs out his chest, and his cheeks redden.

“You can talk. Your dad would eat my dad’s shit if he’d told him to. He swept what happened to Maggie under the rug, all to keep the peace.”

My dad’s bigger than your dad.

The pathetic schoolyard nature of the conversation scrapes nails across my brain. I left this world and found a better one. But I couldn’t keep away.

“I’ve disowned my father. You’re right, he’s a pathetic lickspittle. I stepped out of his shadow a long time ago. You should try it.”

Another blow. Pretty soon, he’s going to order me shot or start throwing punches. I need him pissed enough to use his fists. I try for one last jab. “Do you really just want to sit here chatting? Even your sister put up a bit of a fight. At first. But I suppose, given the state of you, you’re too scared.”

I have absolutely no idea if I can actually beat Harrison in a fist fight. Hapkido is all about disabling your opponent, and I want to smash his stupid fat face into oblivion.

He jumps to his feet, chair flying out behind him, and adrenaline surges through me. We’re doing it. It’s happening. I tense, ready to fight, until Harrison says, “Hold him.”

Two of his goons grab my arms and wrench them behind my back. I struggle and twist but can’t get free, and spider guy smacks my head with the gun hard enough to make me stagger. “Keep that up, and I shoot out a kneecap.”

Shit. My head rings, and I don’t see Harrison winding back for a punch until it smashes into my cheek. The pain rips into me, and through blurred eyes, I see Harrison shaking his fistas though he hurt it on my face. A big gold ring sits on his middle finger, and it’s sliced me. He pulls back for another blow. Another. Another.

My face. My ribs. My gut. Everything hurts. The metallic tang of blood fills my mouth. One eye won’t open any more. Every time I breathe, it’s like I’m being stabbed.

From my one good eye, I see Harrison wipe sweat from his brow. My words come out mushy through swollen lips. “Most exercise you’ve had in a while?”

He snorts. “Such a smart mouth. Did you really think you’d walk out of here alive? I didn’t get where I am by fighting fair, Sebastian. Aren’t you a genius? Didn’t you know that?”

He leans in close enough for me to smell his sour sweat.

“The first time I fucked your sister, she cried because it hurt. I told her that’s how it always feels the first time. Dumb bitch believed me and came back for more. The first time I fucked her ass, she cried again. Your parents really did a number on that girl’s self-esteem. I spat in her mouth once, and she didn’t even complain.”

I spit all the blood gathered in my mouth into his face. He steps back, swiping it off with his shirt sleeve. The sweat stains under his armpits make me want to retch. This man, this piece of human garbage, destroyed Maggie. And instead of playing the smart game I should have to get revenge, I handed myself to him on a silver fucking platter.

The pain is sapping my energy, and my knees want to buckle, but I make myself keep upright. I won’t go to my knees in front of this asshole. I’ll die first.

It takes everything I have not to flinch, though, when Harrison holds up a knife. It has a thin blade, and a stylized handle covered with skulls. He positions it in front of my good eye, pointed tip right in the center. “I think we’ve fucked around enough here. I want you to cry, just like your slutty little sister did.”

Thirty-One

Sebastian

Don’t flinch. Don’t cower.Don’t let this fucking asshole see how terrifying the point of that knife really is. The world shrinks to the point of metal shifting closer and closer to my eye. Sweat coats me, my guts churn, but I will not, will not,will notthrow up.

The point comes closer, and I screw my eyes shut. When it comes, it starts in my forehead. He carves a slow path over my skin, and it’s a new level of torture, deep and sickening. He’s damaging me, hurting me in a way that can’t be undone.

When the tip reaches my eyelid, I scream. I can’t help it. I scream, and it blends with Harrison’s laughter.

---