Page 82 of Insatiable

A fist flies at me from behind, the burn on my cheek welcoming through all the adrenaline pumping in my veins.

Crawley limps to the side and grabs hold of the wall, evidently trying to flee the place and leave his men behind. I order my team to lower their aim.

“Sir?”

I look at Barry. “Leave. All of you.”

My assistant lingers for a second too long before he tells everyone to get back to their vehicles.

I sigh and pull the joint from behind my ear, amazed that it managed to survive the gunfight. “Thinking you could hit me and get away with it was an error, but your worst mistake was looking in her direction.”

Crawley scoffs as he clutches at his thigh, blood seeping between his fingers. “Your whore?”

My jaw strains as I stare at him, my patience worn to the point of snapping. “She is not my whore.” I light my smoke and inhale, hoping it’ll calm my temper, because I’m not in the mood to torture this guy. “Have you been in contact with my boss since I left?”

“Why would I have contacted Mrs Sawyer?” he asks, confused as he grips his wounded leg tighter and stumbles into the wall, sliding down it until he’s on his ass. “Was the girl her daughter?”

I grimace and exhale. “No. Cassie is even more insufferable.”

“Is that why you are here? Because of your whore?” He laughs. “Sharing is caring, Nave.”

I roll my eyes. “Stop calling me that. My name…” I grab his jaw in a painful grip that has him thrashing. I press the bright, hot end of my smoke to his cheek as I say, “My name is not fucking Nave.”

He yells as his skin burns beneath the ember, tears filling his eyes.

I let go, reach behind me to grab one of the blades in my ammo belt and bring it between us. “My name is Kade. Kade Mitchell. Son of Tobias. Maybe I should carve it into your skin? Will you still call meNavethen?”

“F-Fuck you.”

I knock his hand away as he tries to punch me, weak and slowly dying from blood loss. He must’ve been shot.

Instead of giving him a quick end by putting a bullet between his eyes, I carve each letter of my first name into his sweaty forehead in block capitals until he has spittle dripping down his chin, unmovable, nearly unconscious.

“There,” I say, admiring the four crimson letters with a smile. “Now you’ll never forget who I am.”

“YouareDeath,” he says in a low, slurred mumble. “Your time will come. You and your whore.”

I throw my hands out to the side, exasperated. “She’s not my fucking whore.” I lean my elbows on my knees. “In fact, she isn’t a whore at all. She’s the girl I watch, the girl I obsess over until I feel like I’m going fucking insane. I gave her my heart when I was a teenager, and do you know what she did? Sheshatteredit. She’s a venomous snake. Wait. Do you understand a word I’m saying, Crawley?”

He’s fading, not listening anymore.

The light leaves his eyes, and I roll mine and drag the sharp side of my blade across his throat to make sure he’s actually dead. Blood pours from his neck and drenches my hand. I massage the warm liquid between my thumb and fingers before I stand.

Stacey would look wonderful covered in blood. As long as it’s not hers.

I shake off the thought. “Blow it,” I order.

“You’re still in range, sir,” Barry says through my earpiece. “You need to leave the area.”

I smirk and wipe the blood of Crawley’s men from my face – it’s already starting to dry – then glance at the elevator shaft. “I’ll be fine. Just blow it.”

There are a handful of men still down there, trapped and wounded, trying to get out. The stairway is blocked, electricity cutting off the elevator.

They’ll be entombed in the warehouse basement.

All of them stared at Stacey. All of them wanted her. But no one ever gets to have her – not even me.

I pull off my suit jacket and throw it to the side, then roll my sleeves up to my elbows with my blade still in hand. I unbutton my stained shirt as I walk through the car park and yank out the bullet lodged in my armoured vest.

---