Page 113 of The First Cut
I just killed someone. A member of Raven Souls MC who might have been here to help me.Or to warn me.
My eyes fly to the doorway. And there I find Driller grinning at me manically, with his gun aimed at my chest.
“Is it my turn now?” he asks as I fall on my ass and shuffle back until I collide with bed.
“You shot an innocent man, Lola. There’s no coming back from that, trust me.” He steps into the room, looking aroundbriefly, but the gun doesn’t waver. “So the rumors are true. While I lay in a coma, you were fucking the next club brother to come along. You planning on becoming a whore now, Lola? Gotta taste of that Raven dick and can’t get enough, huh? Maybe I need a reminder of what I’ve been missing out on.”
My breathing saws in and out of me with a painful wheeze as my brain tries to process what’s happening.
“How?”
He cocks his head. “How do I want to fuck you, or how am I here?” A cruel smirk plays around the edges of his mouth as he takes another step closer. “This is what happens when you trust a psychopath, you idiot. I’m guessing Hannibal didn’t tell you I was awake. Funny, when he came to visit me, he told me he would, but maybe he was worried you’d come running back to me. As if I’d take back a whore like you.”
I shake my head. “No. You’re lying. Hannibal would've told me.”
“And yet, here we are. Tell me, Lola, do you ever get sick of being a dumb cunt? I mean, you play the part well. Never met someone so fucking stupid in all my life. The only good thing about you was your tight cunt, but now that you’ve had my kid, even that’s ruined. Talking of which, where is my son? I’ll be taking him with me.”
“Over my dead body!” I hiss, pressing myself into the bedframe, my hands slipping underneath it as Driller crouches in front of me.
My fingers touch something cool. Something hard. I run my fingers over it and wince when I cut myself.
A scalpel.
Driller's oblivious as he reaches for my face with his free hand and grips my jaw tight enough to elicit a yelp from me. “That can easily be arranged. Though I have to say, it might bemore fun to watch Hannibal have to kill you himself for taking the life of one of his men.”
“No. It was an accident,” I grit out as he brings his face closer.
“And who is he going to believe? A whore like you?”
I blink before narrowing my eyes. “Yes. He’ll believe me. He knows me.”
He erupts into laughter, his whole body shaking as he chuckles at my expense. “So fucking naive. All he wanted was a warm pussy in his bed and a house mouse to raise the brats. I’ve seen that daughter of his, though. Must take after the mother because she’s fine. Gotta say, I’ll enjoy picking her cherry.” He licks his lips before leaning down and kissing me.
I bite his tongue, making him pull back with a roar. I wrap my fingers around the cool metal of the scalpel just as he punches me in the side of my head, grazing my temple. Before I can react, he hits me again, this time on the cheekbone, making my face feel like it’s going to explode. I drop the scalpel instinctively so I can grasp the bed to stop myself from falling.
The room spins as I struggle to stay upright, but then Driller starts raining down punch after punch, each more vicious than the last, before he drags me across the floor by my hair. He straddles my chest with his large body before he wraps his hands around my throat and starts to squeeze.
I kick and flail my legs, punch and kick, and search with my hands for the scalpel. But the lack of oxygen and pressure on my chest has me quickly losing steam.
He leans down over me and grins widely. “I’m going to fill all your holes with my cum, so when Hannibal finds you, he’ll be reminded of what a dirty little slut you are.”
A black film starts to cover my vision as my head throbs painfully and my lungs burn like I’ve swallowed fire. Tears slip free as my body starts to shut down. I mutter a prayer thatit’s Hannibal who finds me and not Millie, when I hear a loud, piercing cry.
Driller freezes, his hands moving from my throat as he climbs off me and gets to his feet.
I cough and wheeze, trying to suck in much-needed air, though my chest feels like it’s caving in on itself.
“You thought you could keep him from me?” he snarls down at me. I can just about make him out through swollen eyes. I see the kick coming, but I can’t move fast enough to avoid it. The force of it has me rolling back toward the bed, only it wasn’t as painful as I expected it to be. I frown, trying to figure out why as he kicks me again, making me yelp.
“You know what this party needs? A couple of kids. Kids love parties, right?” He kicks me again.
I shove my arm out, trying to stop my momentum, and feel the scalpel touch my fingertips. I grab hold of it tightly just as Driller silently stalks out of the room, following the sound of Evan’s cries.
It clicks then. He’s not wearing his boots. That’s why the kicks hurt but didn’t shatter my ribs. Not that it matters. I try to get to my feet, but it’s impossible so I crawl after him, dragging my left leg, which doesn’t seem to be working right. Still, I refuse to give up. I have to stop Driller from getting his hands on Millie and Evan.
By the time I’ve dragged myself down the stairs to Millie’s room, I’m in agony. Driller figured out that they’re behind the bookcase. The loud crying from my hungry boy drowns out any noise I might be making as he searches the bookcase for a switch.
“How the fuck do I open this thing?” he grouses, kicking the bookcase.
