Page 103 of Mimic
He aimed his gun at Mimic’s feet, shooting off a round into the dirt.
“Shoot him, Dakota,” the woman shouted, and I dug the knife in further, nicking her skin until a bead of blood dripped down her neck. Her body tensed in my arms, and a smile slid across my face.
Mimic smiled too. It was one I hadn’t seen before, and I suspected it was only for Dakota. “He won’t shoot me. I’m the one that got away. I beat the shit out of him and left him bleeding on the ground, and then his father let me go. He’s got a bigger ego than Montana. He wants to kill me with his bare hands. Thinks he’s strong enough.”
“I will fucking kill you. After I fuck you in the ass.”
“Poor little Dakota. Daddy wouldn’t let him fuck me. Is that the problem? Daddy told you no, and now that Daddy’s gone, you think you’ve got the balls to take me down?”
Mimic continued moving forward, one small, slow step at a time.
“I’m not that scrawny sixteen-year-old kid anymore. And your father wouldn’t let you have me because he knew what a sick fuck you were. It’s why he never told you about Rose. Daddy used you, Dakota. He knew you’d never amount to shit. My father was the one he wanted.” Mimic slammed his fist against his chest. “The one he respected. The one he wanted to reproduce. It was my legacy that held all the power. The fucking Stones are nothing, and George fucking knew it.”
“You son of a bitch,” Dakota sneered.
He threw Kytten to the ground, and a shot rang out from above, hitting Dakota in the shoulder. Mimic dove for Rose to make sure she wasn’t hit, and Dakota ran out through the back of the warehouse.
“YOU FUCKING PUSSY! HELP ME!” the woman in my arms screamed as she tried to buck me off her back. I swung my arm around her front, slicing her other side.
“I’ve got him!” Johnny yelled from above as he shimmied out a window and disappeared.
“Rose, are you okay?” Mimic’s hands roamed over his sister, looking for injuries.
“I’m okay. She knew, Thorne. Val knew what Syrena was doing.”
Mimic looked up at the woman, then at me.
“What did she do? How much am I making it hurt?” I asked, my voice not my own.
Mimic stood and helped Kytten to her feet. He walked over to me. His eyes bore into the woman in my arms. “You fucking knew? You knew what that fucking cunt was doing to my sister, and you didn’t stop it?”
The woman laughed and spat in Mimic’s face. “Oh no, bitch.” I swung my arm down, slicing into her thigh. Blood bloomed through her clothes, dripping down her leg.
“You fucking cunt!” Her pained curse was music to my ears. Her hand dropped from my arm as she tried to stem the bleeding in her leg.
“What else? I could do this all night.”
“She knows where Mom is. She’s alive, Thorne. Val helped Dakota take her away from us.”
“HE’S MINE, AND THAT BITCH CAN’T HAVE HIM,” she screamed in Mimic’s face, and he lifted his hand and punched her in the mouth.
“Where is she?” he growled.
“Gone,” the woman sneered. “Sinclair took her.”
“Wrong answer. If you don’t know where my mother is, you’re of no use to me.” Mimic looked into my eyes. “Can you do it? If not, I will.”
I looked at Kytten, who stood behind Mimic. “Who was Syrena and what did she do?”
Kytten swallowed as her eyes welled with tears. “Syrena was one of the Nyght Nymphs who lived with us. She sexually assaulted me for almost two years when I was fifteen.”
“Your legs? The cuts?” I asked, unsure I wanted the answer. Cutting was a coping mechanism. A way to handle the emotional toll of trauma. When Kytten nodded, I asked, “And this cunt knew? And let her?”
“I gave the little bitch to Syrena.” The woman laughed.
My knife sliced a line from one ear to the other. Her laughter turned to gurgles, and I dropped her in the dirt at my feet. Kytten stood there staring at the dead woman.
“Don’t give her another thought, Kytten. I know I won’t.”
