Page 57 of Addicted Lies

“My sister?” Henry blanches. “No, she’s a good girl! Don’t you dare drag her into this!” he screams, and I can share his sentiment regarding his sibling. I would do anything for Hawke. I would definitely die for him.

“I’m bored with this. Maybe a few days of ‘discussion’ might jog your memory,” Eli says as he adjusts his suit. “I will have it known I’m not a patient man, and my men aren’t always obedient. Sometimes, they get carried away. Sometimes, they go on the hunt for fresh meat. I wonder if they might have to make a visit to your sister.”

It’s an intimidation tactic. Eli isn’t above killing women, but he avoids it as much as possible and draws the line at killing children.

“Please,” Henry sobs. “I don’t know anything about poison.”

“How about the snooping you did in my club and around my cargo ships, then?” Eli questions.

Henry turns paler, and unfortunately for him, even if he isn’t associated with the poison, he tried to sway some personal deals himself. He might’ve thought he was smart by stepping out from Laurence Tate’s shadow, but that was not at all the case. The poisonings, however, still run too high a risk, and I’m sure they are somehow connected to this man.

“Hawke, you’re to watch over him tonight. I don’t want him dead yet. We’ll give him some time to reconsider his options.”

Henry growls—a last-ditch effort to keep his dignity—and I’m impressed by his balls.

“You piece of shit. You’re going to kill me anyway, aren’t you? Whoever’s poisoning your men, I hope they target your wife next. I hope?—”

Eli’s on him within seconds, holding him by the throat and raising him with one hand. He has a sadistic smile on his lips, and the monster has come alive. I take a step back, knowing too well what’s about to happen. Any mention of, or threat toward, Jewel will trigger Eli. She’s his everything, and her life is something he won’t mess with, even when trying to gather intel.

“Stupid boy,” Eli purrs as he lifts his hand to Henry’s face. I sigh and turn my back, disappointed that my fun has been taken away from me. Henry’s scream ricochets through the room as Eli gouges out his eye.

I walk over to Hawke as the unhinged level of torture begins, Eli dismantling the man.

“Want to tell me what’s happening lately?” Hawke asks. I stand beside him, placing my crowbar on the counter next to its twin.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” Hawke growls. “You’ve been more distant lately. Something’s up.”

“Nothing is up. I just needed a release tonight, that’s all.”

Hawke folds his arms over his chest, and his almost black eyes, the same as mine, stare at me. We remain like that for a long time, screams echoing around us as Eli begins to laugh like a madman.

“Are you—” Hawke wets his lips. “Are you using again?” he whispers.

“Excuse me?” I growl in warning.

“I don’t think you are,” he’s quick to clarify. “But something is up with you.”

“Fuck you,” I snarl, turning away. He grabs my arm, preventing my escape. I swing, clocking him in the side of the face. He stumbles only for a second before he jumps on me.

We’re rolling on the floor, throwing fist for fist, my heart pounding as the adrenaline fuels me, and I finally get what I want—a release. I kick at his stomach to push him off me.

Hawke might be bigger than me, but it makes him slower. He wipes his mouth, blood trickling over his bottom lip, and a deranged smile takes over his face. I smile back.

He pounces again, tackling me back to the floor. I block his fists, his full weight pinning me down. I hook my leg around his, using momentum from one of his punches to flip him to his back and strike back.

I break through his forearm block, hitting his face again. My head is pounding, a dizzy spell rattling my head.

I go to hit him again, but the click of a gun behind my head stops me. My hands raise in the air as I sense another predator behind me.

“I think not,” Eli says. “I’m all for bloodshed, but do it on your own time.”

I want to punch Hawke again and again and again. But I know it’s not him I’m angry with. It’s not him I want hurt. I’m heaving in deep breaths, my sadism in full swing, as I lean back into the barrel of Eli’s gun, relishing the thrill.

I’m exhausted. Defeated in some ways. I stare at the ceiling and smile, looking like a madman, as the realization hits me that I’m already too late. Because Billie is in my blood, and after only hours of denying myself of her, I’m nothing but a rabid dog.

“Get up, dickhead,” Hawke says, calling me back into the room. I look at him, unfazed by the gun pointed at my head.

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