Page 10 of Bought By Santa

I scoff, focusing on the task at hand. The thief thought he could steal from the Knight family and live to tell the tale. He was wrong.

This is the last accomplice to the rat we killed in the warehouse earlier tonight, and he is about to learn the same lesson. The pathetic, backstabbing fucker is shaking like a leaf. He pleads, sobs, but his fate is sealed. My gut clenches with a dark satisfaction. Fear is a tool, and I wield it expertly.

“Please… I didn’t know who the money belonged to. You have to believe me,” he whimpers.

“An excuse as thin as the ice you’re skating on,” I retort, my voice cold enough to freeze hell over. I can almost taste his dread. It fuels me.

“Let’s wrap it up. I’ve got places to be,” Jack says, impatience seeping through his usually laid-back tone.

“Patience, brother.” I step closer to the sniveling man, reveling in the power I hold over life and death. “Let’s ensure he understands the consequences of crossing us.”

“Understood, understood! Please…” His words dissolve into another round of useless begging.

“Silence!” My command echoes off the brick walls encasing us. The man’s mouth snaps shut, his body quivering. “Your cooperation now is meaningless. You’ve already chosen your side.”

“God, please—”

“God can’t help you here,” I laugh.

The alleyway reeks of fear, a stench that’s almost sweet to my senses. “Please,” he tries again, looking up at me with eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. Pathetic.

“Please?” I echo, my tone dripping with mock sympathy. Turning to my brother, I ask, “Do you think he deserves mercy?”

Jack chuckles, the sound deep and menacing. “After making us waste time having to track him down? I don’t fucking think so.”

Something about Jack’s words sparks something in my mind. This hasn’t been a waste of time. Hell, it hasn’t even been drawn out. I absentmindedly scratch my cheek under the beard.

“What’s up?” Jack asks, almost like he can sense my brain working hard to piece shit together.

The thing is, I’m not sure there’s anything off. Right now, it’s only a feeling… fuck, barely. It’s half a feeling if anything. It just seems too… easy.

First the thief led us to one accomplice, and he neatly led us to the next one. Neither of the men we’ve hunted down needed much prompting, and the person they gave up was exactly where described. Fuck, not just that. They were… alone and defenseless.

Surely, it can’t be this easy.

Shaking my head, I refocus on the man in front of me. “Any last words, then?” I ask, the cold metal of my gun pressing against the guy’s temple. He sputters, begging, but it’s all white noise. “Last chance to stand up and die like a man instead of on your knees like the filth you are.” My words are cruel, but I don’t have any sympathy for disloyal bottom feeders. Especially not those who run and kneel, too weak to face the consequences of their actions like a man.

A single gunshot shatters the silence. His body slumps, lifeless.

“Fuck’s sake,” Jack gripes. “Couldn’t you have shot him anywhere but the head? Cleanup won’t be happy about the mess.” My brother’s upper lip curls in distaste as he eyes the blood, fractured skull, and brain matter.

“Let them—”

I’m interrupted by a scream; a sharp, piercing guttural sound that cuts through the aftermath. My head snaps in its direction.

“Shit, who—” Jack starts, already moving toward the source.

Whipping around, I spot her—a woman, her eyes wide with terror. She’s beautiful, even in fear. Blonde hair tumbling in disarray, curves hugged by her thin dress despite the December’s chill. Hmm, she must have been in one of the clubs nearby. Her chest heaves with rapid breaths, her blue eyes wide and fixed on the fresh corpse.

“Mine,” I growl, claiming the right to handle the unexpected complication myself. Without taking my eyes off her, I advance, each step measured, predatory. Her terror is palpable, and something within me stirs, a primal urge I haven’t felt in years.

“Who are you?” she demands, trying to mask her fear with bravado.

I let out a dark chuckle. “Wrong question, Kitten,” I reply, stepping closer, watching as she instinctively retreats. “You should be asking what I’m going to do with you now.”

“Please, I won’t say anything, I swear!” she cries out as I close the distance between us.

“I know you won’t,” I smirk.

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