Page 93 of Unleash Hades
This was the mouth he had kissed me with on our wedding day. The same lips Adelia’s sons had inherited from him. How cruelthat something so good could have come from something so wretched.
“But you never truly knew me, did you?” I whispered.
Richard’s brows knit together, even as he bit my index finger, taking it between his disgusting lips. It felt like the slobber of a dog’s mouth.
“I know you, darling,” he said, as he sucked my finger.
I shivered, in agitation.
“No! You don’t!” Truth would set me free. Death would also set me free. Because I knew that this was the end. “IhateA Lion in Winter.”
A gunshot cracked through the air, echoing in the empty space. Hot, red blood covered my eyes.
And it was all done.
Chapter 32
Hugo
He was holding herat gunpoint, the barrel at her chest. Her hand touched his face. I could see them through a single window. The only one. Night vision gave clarity as to where they were, where my eyes could not.
I had one shot.
Chloe’s tracker had sped up the search, and now, I had to hope that it was enough. But I knew I only hadonechance before Dick Davenport would kill her.
I placed the crosshairs of the long rifle at his head. But then I changed my mind, twisting my shoulder up to lower the sights to his chest.
One chance.
She opened her mouth to speak, and whatever she said had him riveted.
I squeezed the trigger. Glass shattered. Through my scope, I saw liquid splash onto her. Davenport fell to his knees, then onto his side.
She stayed as still as a statue.
“Let’s go,” I said, as I rushed into the building, not caring if Alastair, Callum and Geordie followed.
I would get to her on my own if I had to, and had to trust that my team would kill anything else that was on the ground.
I barreled through the door - the same one Bellamy had gone through. Thank God he was there first, and able to get the boys out. Then I was free and clear to concentrate on savingher, and only her.
Otherwise, she would have kicked me out to save the boys, just as she had the peacock. Turns out he was one of Philippa’s MI6 agents.
That was a surprise.
Calissandra’s skin was paper white, contrasting with the beat-red blood that splashed across her features.
“Ma petite,” I began, grabbing her by the shoulders.
Her eyes were wide as she stared at the dead man at her feet. Though, not dead, it turned out. His heart was still beating, his chest wide open, flooding with his own blood as he gasped for air. His skin was blue, his eyes bulging.
“Cali?” I asked, running my hands over her head, into her hair, looking for divots, breaks, or anything that would indicate that she had been wounded. I clinically ran my palms over her neck, her chest, her torso, and knelt down to feel each leg.
None of the blood was hers. Thank God.
“He can’t die like this,” she said, her voice a whisper.
Dick Davenport’s hand outstretched towards her, shaking in the air, as his crooked fingers reached to the vision of his uncaring wife.
