Page 35 of Devil's Game

“You’re nothing.”

I let the words hang between us, wanting him to think about just how inconsequential his life was to the people he defended with his own.

“They don’t care about you.” I laughed, pulling back the bat. “They’d gladly watch the life drain out of you if it meant keeping their empire breathing for just one day longer.”

He gritted his teeth, anger simmering in his soulless eyes before he struck. But I was ready for him. Just as he lunged forward, his hand attempting to claw at my leg, I brought the bat down on his forearm, delighting in the crunch of bone that followed.

A keening scream pierced through the night, exemplifying just how alone he was.

The town had long ago grown apathetic to the pained cries that echoed through the night—all thanks to men like him.

It was almost poetic that he would die this way.

“You think you’re any different than them, than the trainer you killed? Or the people you torment?” I shook my head, disgust roiling in my stomach as he tried to hold himself up on his battered arm before shifting all his weight onto his two uninjured limbs. “You’re just another cog in their machine, a weapon for them to wield and use as they see fit. A shield for them to cower behind, and as soon as you fall, there’ll be another warm body in your place, willing to kill in their name for the faintest glimmer of power or wealth they dangle in front of your nose like a horse with a carrot.”

“P-please,” he whimpered, but it was too late.

“You expect mercy?” I asked on a mocking laugh as I swung the bat again, the thick wood slamming into his face as his strength gave out. “Did you consider sparing anyone, helping anyone, rather than tormenting them?”

My gaze shifted to the diner, reminding myself of the delight he’d taken only moments before, of the smug grin he’d had when he announced that this attack would be the catalyst for me running back to Tommaso. He’d wanted me back in that prison, he’d taken pleasure in pushing me while I was down, laughing at me while I was at my lowest.

I took his silence as answer enough while I swung again, and again, watching as he slowly lost consciousness, as the blood sprayed on the ground, on my legs, my clothes, my face. I let it wash over me like a cleansing balm, like a reminder that I’d escaped, that I wouldn’t be forced back, and that I was finally free.

For the first time in my life, I was free.

I’d been shackled to this place for so long. To my parents, to Tommaso. But now I had three men by my side, three men who were ready and willing to ride into this war with me. They’d never stand in my way, keep me cloistered away, or on a shelf like a trophy.

They loved me for who I was, for who I’d become, and all the moments in between.

I stopped my next swing, my breaths coming in ragged pants as he lay motionless on the ground, his head misshapen by the force of the bat. Blood oozed from the splits in his skin and the dent in his skull, soaking into his clothes and mixing with his friend’s on the pavement.

How long had he been down for?

“Is it wrong to tell you how hot you look right now?” Spade murmured, lips brushing the shell of my ear as he placed his hands tenderly on my shoulders.

“To anyone else, probably.” I huffed in amusement, smiling over my shoulder at him in thanks for breaking me out of my shock. “But to me, it’s perfect.”

I knew he meant it too. Because, despite the blood coating my skin, Spade saw the wildness underneath, the darkness in my soul calling to his own.

“I cannot wait to get you out of here.” He groaned, slipping one of his hands down to the curve of my waist, sending a jolt of desire up my spine. Adrenaline was still coursing through my veins, looking for some sort of outlet. And if we weren’t right outside my parents’ diner, I would—

My gaze drifted up to the poorly lit building, somehow feeling her gaze on me the moment she’d hobbled into the doorway.

Sticky blood coated my face, my hair, my chest. So similar to the ketchup staining Pam’s face as she stared back at me. So similar at this moment, yet worlds apart.

She was coated in the result of her weakness, in her shame and misfortune. I, however, wore the smattering of blood as a badge of honor, of strength, and a refusal to bow down to any man or system.

There wasn’t gratitude or understanding in her eyes—no, there was fear, like she only just realized a wolf in sheep’s clothing stood before her, like she finally registered the true threat her daughter posed.

A grin curled on my lips as I gave her an exaggerated wave goodbye, the bat swinging back and forth in my other hand, a warning I hoped she’d heed. They were not welcome in East Haven. Neither by the Barones, nor by me. Spade wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulders, violence shining in his eyes as he waved as well before kissing my cheek.

“Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Bardot,” Spade crooned, the excitement in his tone for another reason completely. “Hope we never cross paths—for your sake, at least.”

Pam’s eyes widened as she stumbled back, a scream tearing from her lips, as though she’d just seen death incarnate in his eyes. The door closed behind her in her haste to get away, shuttering out the diner and the woman I would never see again.

“Let’s get out of here.” I grinned up at Spade. “There’s trash all over this place.”

“They’re definitely getting a one-star rating from me.” He chuckled, nudging the guard’s lifeless body with his foot. “The service is horrendous. Look, this guy is asleep on the job.”

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