Page 10 of Wilt

In a flash, I wrap an arm around her throat and grab my own Glock from the small of my back. I press it against her temple and hear her gasp, and the cop’s eyes narrow. The gun in his hand never wavers, not even when he throws a flick of attention to the girl then switches back to me.

He may think he has me cornered, but I highly doubt he’ll shoot, not when I’m holding the prize. I cock my head and smile.

“Uncle Max!” she gasps, and I tighten my arm against her neck to restrict her airway. That shuts her up instantly.

Uncle Max?

Uncle?

When the realization finally strikes me, laughter rumbles in my chest.

Oh, this is good.

“How sweet. She’s got no idea, does she?” I say, the silencer pushing a little harder against her temple. “You’ve kept her in the dark this long? Does she even know about Finnegan? Or—”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Wilder,” he snaps, his brows creased with fury. “Let the girl go. She has nothing to do with this.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,Uncle Max,” I spit, jerking her harder against me. Her round ass presses against my groin, making my dick harden, and it takes too much effort to keep my focus where it needs to be—on the deadly weapon pointed our way. “She haseverythingto do with it.”

His muscles tighten, and I can see the war of whether to shoot me in his eyes. I almost want him to take the chance. Try it. He’d risk hitting Rosalind, the precious little thing he’s sworn to protect, so there’s no way he’ll pull the trigger.

“You know, you’ve done a piss-poor job. It was almost too easy,” I tempt him. I skirt the gun along the side of her face, and she squirms against me. My cock twitches in response, growing more and more uncomfortable in the restrictive fabric of my pants. “Pretty fucking thing, isn’t she? Can kiss, too. Wonder what else she can do…”

My thoughts run wild with all the things I can’t wait to do to her: strip her naked, bend her over to see that perfect ass in the air, defile her in the best ways.

She’ll scream, too, both pain and pleasure. I’ll make sure of it. When I have her sweating, sore, and gasping for air, she’ll beg for more.

She’ll beg forme.

The look on Uncle Max’s face is one of disgust. He absolutely loathes me, and I relish in it. Fuck him, the over-inflated pig. He doesn’t intimidate me; I’ve seen hell. No one on this earth can intimidate me.

“Have you tried her, Uncle Max?” I ask, pushing him more. “Have you dipped into the honey jar?”

When he barely flinches, it confirms my suspicions. He’s definitely hardened law, in for the long haul. My taunts don’t raise even a hackle.

Even under the threat of death, sweet little Rosalind doesn’t cry. I’d expect tears and hysteria from anyone else, but not the spawn of fucking Finnegan.

“Put the gun down, Wilder. Now,” Uncle Max repeats, harder this time.

I just laugh. “Or what? I’m a fast shot. She’ll be dead before a bullet touches me.”

“Maybe I don’t care.”

That seems to surprise both me and Rosalind, because she sucks in a sharp breath. “Uncle Max!”

I clamp a hand around her mouth and tap the gun against her temple again to remind her to keep her fucking trap shut.

“Sorry, dear. The grown-ups are talking now.” I press my lips against her ear. “Besides, I doubt your Uncle Max is lying. The only thing he cares about is losing his job, or sullying his suit. Me? I like a little mess.”

His finger begins to pull back on the trigger. “You piece of sh—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. My bullet hits its mark, nailing him right between the eyes. Blood and brains explode from the back of his head, coating the door and hallway with his memories.

Uncle Max is dead before he hits the floor.

Rosalind’s muffled screams ring out from behind my hand, and I jerk her roughly to get her to stop. “Don’t.”

Her screaming ceases just as Rush arrives, kicking Max’s corpse completely inside the room. In contrast to me, my cousin’s platinum blond hair stands out against his strikingly dark blue suit, his boyish face making him look like a child instead of newly nineteen. For as young as he is, he’s done this sort of thing enough to know exactly what needs to be done for a quick getaway. He dumps a canvas bag on the floor with a hard thump and pulls what’s left of the door shut behind him.

---