Page 139 of Unorthodox
He simply looks back at my captor. “Why would you want to do that?” Max’s eyes gleam with those words. He shrugs, the gun still by his side as he nods toward my body. “There’s so much left of her to use.”
I feel my captor’s fingers tighten in my hair. “I’m not fucking around, Bennett. Where is Luca and where—”
He doesn’t get to finish his question. Max lifts his weapon and fires at point blank range, killing Mamie’s captor with a shot to his head.
But another shot rings out just before he pulls the trigger, and I see him stagger backward, his hand coming up to his shoulder as he grimaces.
Then he drops his hand, and as if he didn’t just get fucking shot, he steps around Mamie, coming closer to me, his housekeeper at his back.
I can’t see her now, but she doesn’t make a sound.
And neither do I, even as I can’t bring myself to look at Max’s shoulder. I can barely bring myself to draw breath.
My own captor’s hand starts to shake, and I feel the knife nick my throat.
Max seems to see it, too. His eyes dart to my neck, but only for a second, before he’s glaring at the man behind me. “You just cut my girl,” he says softly.
My stomach clenches with those words, but I say nothing as I grit my teeth.
Max reaches into his pocket, and I think about the playing cards he held out for Dante.
He doesn’t pull anything out this time, he just keeps his hand there.
“She’s not yours anymore, Bennett,” the man says, his voice hard, but I hear the panic. This wasn’t the plan. Whoever Luca is—his name vaguely familiar—he was supposed to be here.
Max smiles. He drops the gun to the floor with a clatter and I tense as he steps closer, until he’s inches from me. “She is mine,” he says quietly, “and you fucking hurt her.Only I’m allowed to do that.”
He takes another step, and the man’s hand trembles violently, another cut slicing into my skin.
Max sighs. “What’s your name?”
I can hear the man opening and closing his mouth, words stuck in his throat. Whatever plan he had for tonight, this isn’t it: his men dead, and Max showing up instead of Luca. He’s floundering, but if Max doesn’t hurry up, the man is going to slit my throat and none of this shit will matter.
“Bennett, I swear to God I’ll—”
“What’s your name?” Max repeats, his tone even, one hand still in his pocket.
The man sputters again, but he finally says, “C-Colton. I-I work for Luca and he said—”
“Well, Colton,” Max takes one more step, his legs brushing against the wooden seat of my chair, “you just fucked up. And if Luca gave one shit about his employees, he’d have warned you about me.” Before he even finishes his sentence, he reaches for the knife at my throat, his fingers edging into the blade, creating a barrier with his own hand to stop the knife from cutting me.
He snatches it from Colton’s shaking hands, and he lunges for the man, driving him against the wall beside me. A shot goes off, and I remember Colton had a gun, but no one screams, and I hear the gun clatter to the floor just as I hear something else, too—a squelching sound and a strangled cry.
“He’d have told you that I don’t talk much.”
When I force my gaze from Mamie’s horrified face to what’s happening beside me, I see Max pinning Colton against the wall. I watch as Max pulls his elbow back, and then drives it forward, and the second squelching sound is followed by Colton’s screams.
“I just fuck people up.”
Then Max drops the knife, wraps his hand around the back of Colton’s neck and forces him away from the wall.
Toward me.
My mouth falls open as I see blood staining Colton’s grey pants, spreading along his inner thigh, two rips in the fabric oozing blood.
“Get on your fucking knees,” Max says in Colton’s ear as he pulls the mask off of his face.
Colton can’t be much older than me, and his face is pale, his eyes wide as he stares at me, his chin quivering. Slowly, he sinks down to his knees, a scream piercing the silence as he does, blood soaking through his pants, making the fabric cling to him.
