Page 115 of Cinder
My gaze sweeps over Alice’s sweet face and I breathe in a rough breath.
I bring her hand to my lips and press a kiss into her knuckles.
I’m sorry I didn’t love you back like I should’ve.
I thought I had time to fall.
Forcing myself to swallow back a new wave of tears and guilt, I let the darkness rise inside of me. A darkness I’vealways known was there, but one I’ve always fought to contain.
Now I decide to let it rise.
To protect me.
To distance me from this in the future.
To give me the strength to do the things I need to do to avenge this.
I let go of Alice’s hand, knowing life is different now.
I don’t know what lies ahead.
All I know is this fucking hurts.
And I don’t ever want to feel this way again.
I blendin with the shadows. Watching. Waiting. I move when he moves.
This man is the last of the three men I have been hunting for the past eight years. Three men who were in the car the day bullets rained down on a Knights of St. Boniface family day in the park.
After my old man and the president of the club waged war on the syndicate behind the attack, these men scattered to the wind. They disappeared into a cloud of protective smoke like they never even existed.
But I knew I’d track them down.
One after the other.
No matter how long it took.
In the meantime, I became a fully patched member of the club and sank deep into club life. Women. Sex. More sex. Anything to keep me numb.
Now I’m being considered for the enforcer role within the club. A role that requires strategy, strong instincts, and the brute force to back it up.
Hunting these men, I’ve learned all of that and more.
It’s almost a shame that this target is the last one.
First to go was the driver. I found him in an upscale brothel in Chicago, getting fucked by a six-foot blonde wearing a strap on. I slipped into the bathroom undetected and waited behind the shower curtain. When he came into the bathroom to piss, I stepped behind him, slid my hand across his mouth and whispered in his ear. “This is for them.” And I ran my blade along his throat.
Second to go was the front passenger in the car. The son of the slain syndicate leader. But he wasn’t nearly as rewarding as the first. I found him almost dead with a needle in his arm. But I brought him back to life, so he was conscious and coherent enough to know exactly what was about to happen. With satisfaction, I watched it click in his head. Saw the moment he figured it out and waited with my arms crossed as the pleading set in. Then I killed him.
Looking back, I didn’t make him beg enough.
But this one.
This is the one I intend to savor.
He was the man who pulled the trigger and brought blood to the Knights of St. Boniface doorstep that day.
The asshole who took my girl and our unborn kid from me.
