Page 97 of Mafie Kings

“No,” Lev says, a sparkle in his eye. “We saved some of them for you. You still can’t kill them, but,” he shrugs, turning to lead the way, “there are worse things than death.”

A wicked grin spreads across my face at his comment. I’m still pissed, but maybe this is just the outlet I need. It’s been too long since my blades have had the chance to play. The feeling of warm blood caressing my hand beckons me like a demon in the dark.

Damien holds out his hand for me, and I take it. They might not have told me the truth, but what they’re offering me now is better than a gift on Christmas day. I’m going to make these assholes beg for death.

Chapter 43

Evie’s face lights up like the moon in the night sky when we tell her that she can torture these people. I have no doubt she needs an outlet right now, and we have the perfect one to give her.

The poisons instructor had been taken care of, banished from the island, and oddly enough never heard from again. Five students were banned and sent home as well. Two of which never made it back to the mainland. The other three were in a mysterious car accident on their way home from the airport, and not one person was able to recall what happened. The wounds they were left with were life-altering. One of them is still in a coma and the other two lost limbs.

I have a strong feeling Alexi had something to do with it all, but he refuses to even acknowledge it. I believe that he wasn’t the one to release that video, but I’m tired of the way he wields his power with us. I don’t plan on following his orders blindly anymore, and while he acts like he hates me for that, I think he can sense the change in me and the strength I’m gaining from it.

“How did you catch them?” Evie asks us.

“There are two we still have here,” Damien tells her, looking just as excited to see Evie in action as Evie is to enact some revenge. “One of them is an instructor, Slade. The prick thought he could try to get to you when you stayed late to practice shooting. He confessed he gave you the task with the handgun because he knew it wasn’t your strong suit and figured it was the best way to get you alone.”

“But he didn’t know we were watching you,” I continue for him. “This was right after you started going back to classes. We didn’t realize what that video was going to do. He’s been locked in Damein’s torture shed the longest.”

Damien chuckles darkly. “When he thought you were alone, he tried to drug you. I saw it coming. Before Slade could even open the door to the range, I was shoving the needle into his neck that he planned to use on you.”

Evie looks at Damien. “What if you had killed him?” she asks, panic seeming to grip her features.

“The one exception to the rule, that no one knows but the Kings,” Damien tells her, “is that we’re allowed to kill if it’s in defense of a student being killed. If he had planned to kill you with the injection, then I would have had the right to kill him. But I wasn’t worried. I knew he wouldn’t kill a student; it had to be some sort of knock-out drug.”

He shrugs and keeps walking. I shake my head at his recklessness, even though a smile tugs at my lips. I’m sore from our activities earlier. I can feel what he did to me with every step I take. My lips turn to a full smile when I look over to see him and Evie shoving each other back and forth playfully as she tells him not to risk himself for her.

She still doesn’t get how much she means to us, but I plan to show her until it’s crystal clear.

We approach the shed when Evie runs to my side, taking my hand. “Who’s the other one?” she asks, seeming to want to know before we go inside. With the number of surprises this girl has had in her life, I can see why she would want to be prepared for who she might see.

“Do you remember the day we were in combat class, the day before the combat instructor gave us our new ‘assignment’?” I ask her.

She nods, squeezing my hand a little tighter. “Yeah.”

“Do you remember the fight that broke out on the mat beside ours after you took down the daughter of the Irish Reapers?”

“I do.” She furrows her brows as she tries to understand where this is going.

“Apparently,” I tell her, coming to a stop in front of the shed. Damien steps up behind her, an arm going around her waist and pulling her into him slightly as she still holds my hand. “Someone recorded you taking her down and posted it for the island network to see. The caption had something to do with how she was weak because she got taken down by a whore or some bullshit. I took it down before many people saw it. One night when you woke up from a nightmare, D came to check on you. I was coming in too, after I woke up in his bed alone. She had broken into our living room. Thankfully my taser was on the counter and I got her before she could get to you.”

“You tased her?” she asks me, her confusion turning to pride. A smile lights up her face in the moonlight. “Damn, that’s badass. What happened next?”

I laugh at her compliment. “Damien helped me get her here.” I gesture to the shed. “She head-butted him in the nose when we were tying her up and soaked his shirt in blood. So naturally, D had to break her nose in return.”

“That explains why I saw Damien walking in covered in blood one morning when I was on my way to the gym.” She punches him in the arm, causing him to actually wince. “You said it was just a sparring accident.”

He laughs before pulling her into his arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “It’s basically the same thing,” he says, nuzzling her until laughter spills from her lips. I love watching them together. He can make her laugh and smile so effortlessly, even with his craziness.

“You ready, Lucky Charm?” I ask her, unlocking the latch so the door can slide open. The shed is built like a small warehouse, complete with soundproof doors and a drainage system in the concrete floors. The night air is cool, but stepping inside Damien's little torture chamber feels like a sauna.

Four rooms are ahead. Two of them are occupied. The others are freshly cleaned from our previous guests. “Who would you like to see first?” I ask her.

“What’s the Irish girls name?” she questions, a stone-cold mask slipping into place over her face. I can practically feel her walls building up as her posture changes. She stands taller, shoulders back, chin up, like she's ready for battle. Seeing how quickly and effortlessly she can change sends a wave of worry through me.

How many times has she had to hide herself from the world for something like this?

Evie’s eyes connect with mine, breaking me from my thoughts. “Nessa.”

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