Page 69 of The Black Lotus
My chest rises and falls in deep breaths as I look at the aftermath of my rage. At the result of my stupidity, mystubbornnessat refusing to listen to my gut and going with her.
He drove a personal car. I didn't even think it was strange. Most police officers drive unmarked vehicles now. If he’s smart, which it seems like he is, he would have made it untraceable.
I fall to my knees, retrieving the laptop to find out any clues and praying it was spared from my wrath. I may not be a genius hacker like Zephira- My breath catches. “Zephira,” I whisper.
“Yes, brother?”
I clutch my chest, the laptop falling off my lap. “Fuck! Where did you come from?”
“I heard you whisper my name,” she muses, crossing her arms as she stands by the door, looking at me with a knowing smirk. “Does this mean Serena is fair game now?”
She fucking knows.I spring off the floor, striding towards her and wrapping my hand around her throat as I slam her against the wall. My grip tightens with each word. “Where. Is. She?”
She struggles to breathe, her answer gargled. “Who?”
“You know who,” I growl, watching her face turn blue.
She claws at my hands, silently begging for release, I toss her to the ground, my body begging for her blood. But I won’t kill my sister, not until I have answers. I don’t want to kill her, if I’m being honest, but if anything happens to Serena, I will end her.
She coughs, as she looks up at me and laughs.Is she fucking kidding me? She has the balls to laugh in my face right now?I kick her stomach, smirking as she grunts.
“I’m not fucking around, Zephira! Tell me where she is!”
She looks up at me, wiping the spit from her mouth with a crazed, unbelieving look in her eyes. “You kicked me,” she says more as a statement than a question. “You kicked your little sister. Not even Serena-”
I lift her by her shirt, her feet dangling helplessly in the air. “Don’t. Say. Her fucking. Name.”
Taunting me like the little girl she is, her lips start to form Serena’s name. My vision goes red and before she can utter a word, I slam my fist into her gut.
“If you don’t want me to throw you down those stairs, you better start talking.”
She looks over her shoulder at the stairs that may not kill her but will do some damage and presses her lips into a thin line.
“Speak!” I demand, my face twisting into a ruthless snarl, my muscles tight as I bare my teeth.
I feel no remorse hurting her like this. I would do worse if I had the time to bleed the answers out of her, but I don’t know what that dirty deputy has done or where he has taken her, so brute force is my only tool.
“Ask nicely,” she rasps.
Is she fucking with me right now?I hold her body over the staircase like a ragdoll, showing how serious I am, but no ounce of fear shines in her eyes as she waits for what I’ll do next. My head flinches back at her brazen personality as I start to see how much we are alike, our similarities really starting to shine in the face of danger.
I growl as I bring my hand over my face. “Will youpleasetell me where Serena was taken?” I grind out, annoyed with our little game. But if this is the only way to gain any answers, then I will play.I would do anything to find Serena.
“See? Was that so hard?” My hand tightens in her shirt, and I wish it was her throat I was squeezing. “Put me down so we can have a nice discussion like adults.”
“There is nothing to discuss! Just tell me where she is!” I scream, spit flying into her face.
“Uh huh.” She shakes her head at me, an impossible smirk on her face. “I’ll only tell you if you’re nice. And big brother,” she smacks my cheek a couple times and my muscles strain with my desire to chuck her down the stairs, “you’re not being nice.”
“Fine.” I place her down as nicely as I can, watching her fight to regain her balance.
“Say sorry.”
I stare at her, my mouth open and my fists clenched, refraining myself from killing her. “I’m… I’m sorry.”
“For?” She prolongs the word.
I’m sorry I’m growing tired of this stupid game and am about to murder youis what I want to say, but instead I relent and apologize. “For throwing. Kicking. And… Punching you,” I mutter.
