Page 18 of Addicted Lies

I release one of my crowbars, whipping out my gun and shooting the second to last man standing, who’s bleeding but trying to protect his boss. The man keels over a wooden table that was obviously knocked over in the chaos.

My blood is pumping with adrenaline and pounding in my ears as Hawke lets his bloodlust take over. He punches the man again and again.

A sense of calm takes over me as I see the two women huddled in the corner. It washes away the demand for more blood as I pick up my crowbar and slowly walk toward the busted front door. The women seem confused as I point to it.

I know how I must look. I can feel the hot blood on my face and in my hair, staining my clothes and forcing them to cling to my skin. But one thing I will absolutely not do is kill a woman or child.

It’s a code I’ve lived by from the moment I started taking lives. And if it’s a weakness, then so be it. Hawke has stuck by a similar code, but I wonder what will happen when the day comes that Eli gives us the order.

I hope that day never comes.

The women look in Hawke’s direction, terrified and shaking. I don’t really even see them. The only woman I really notice is Billie, and in their stead, it’s her face looking back at me. The monster within me wants to retreat slightly, hide itself from her fucking lively personality.

She might know of my demons and bloodlust, but knowing and being confronted by it are two very different things.

It appears the women choose to risk moving for the door instead of remaining in the same room as Hawke as he beats the man to death.

They slowly approach me, and I look in the other direction.

Our mother would call us weak and deem it a mistake to let witnesses go. But I refuse to kill them. If it’s the only rule that makes me feel human, then I’ll die because of it.

The first woman sprints out the door, basically leaving her friend behind, but the second lingers for long enough to make me actually look at her.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

My eyebrows furrow in confusion because I’m not someone who should be thanked, even if I’m letting them live. I’m anything but a good man. And certainly not one who should be thanked.

“Tell your friend not to speak of this, or I might not be so kind next time,” I say emotionlessly, and the fear sparks back to life in her light-brown eyes.

She nods, tears springing to her eyes as she runs out the door.

I assess the carnage as I approach Hawke, who’s now shaking Laurence Tate back and forth. “Hey!” He slaps Laurence across the face, but the man doesn’t react. “Fuck. I accidentally killed him too soon.”

Hawke’s gloves are wet and sticky with blood, and it’s splattered across his face and clothes, much like my own. I scan the room, looking for cameras and any evidence for the cleanup crew to discard of.

Part of me thinks this is the exact reason Eli elevated us to his seconds. We’re ruthless and obedient, much like well-trained dogs. But it’s familiar. And it’s what we’re good at.

“Seven,” I say to Hawke, who’s coming down from the high.

“Huh?” He blinks rapidly as the more human side of him comes back to the forefront.

“I killed seven, and you only killed five. I win.”

Hawke drops the dead man and looks around. He’s on his knees, and despite his size, he looks like a child of destruction right now. He runs his bloody glove through his black hair.

“Fucker!” He realizes that I’ve once again beaten him in body count. I smirk.

“The women?” he asks a little more quietly as he stands.

“I let them go,” I confess.

He nods agreeably. Even monsters sometimes have rules.

Hawke fishes around in Laurence’s pocket and finds a set of keys. “Right. Let’s see what treasure is behind that door.” He smiles mischievously just as Eli’s cleanup crew arrives.

We step toward the room that better have this fucking ring our mother’s fixated on. If not, hell’s really going to come down on this city until we find it.

CHAPTER 8

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