Page 51 of Retaliation

But despite her best efforts, Reaper had remained elusive, a shadowy figure lurking just beyond her reach. Each dead end, each failed attempt to track him down, had only fueled her rage, pushing her further into the abyss of her own making.

And then there were the challenges, the death matches she had embraced with a fervor bordering on madness. She had accepted them without hesitation, craving the adrenaline rush that came with the possibility of facing her brother’s killer in the ring.

But even that had proved futile, a cruel twist of fate that mocked her relentless pursuit of justice.

As Reaper stood before her now, his smirk twisting her insides with a sickening mixture of rage and despair, she felt the weight of her past sins bearing down on her like a leaden shroud. The darkness that had once consumed her threatened to engulf her once more, its tendrils reaching out to drag her back into the abyss.

“How do you know about that?” she demanded.

“You really thought I wouldn’t keep tabs on you after you swore you would kill me?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“What does it have to do with Scorpion?”

Poison couldn’t believe she stood in his presence and held up a conversation instead of killing him with her bare hands. She should, but the look in Scorpion’s eyes had her reeling—throwing all logic to the wind.

“Well, during that little temper tantrum of yours, Beautiful, you killed some of his friends,” He counted on his fingers. “Some of his crew members,” A second finger went up, “Oh, and here’s the kicker...” He held her stare for a moment, lifting a third finger. “You killed his brother.”

Reaper’s smug expression grated on Poison’s nerves, his enjoyment of her pain a bitter pill to swallow. Anger boiled within her as she struggled to comprehend his accusations.

Her mind raced, trying to make sense of his words.

She couldn’t fathom how she could be responsible for something so heinous. She couldn’t reconcile the idea of her being responsible for causing Scorpion the same pain as the man before her caused her.

“What?” Her voice cracked with disbelief. “I didn’t! I couldn’t have!”

Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision as she fought to hold back the flood of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. The thought of causing Scorpion the pain and hate she felt twisted her heart painfully, making it difficult to breathe.

But Reaper’s laughter cut through her protests, his amusement a cruel mockery of her anguish. His words echoed in her mind.

“You see,” Reaper continued, his tone dripping with malice, “Scorpion is the leader of the Dune Demons, and his twin brother, Rex, or Double R, or whatever, died at your hands four years ago.”

The revelation hit her like a physical blow, the air rushing from her. She felt as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath her feet, leaving her teetering on the edge of a void.

And then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, Reaper turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Poison alone with her thoughts and guilt—his parting smile adding fuel to the fire.

As she watched him disappear into the darkness, she felt a surge of rage mingling with her despair. She refused to believe Reaper’s words, refused to accept the notion that she could be responsible.

But deep down, a seed of doubt had been planted, a nagging fear that threatened to consume her from within.

And as she stood there, Poison couldn’t shake the feeling that her world was unraveling before her eyes.

SEVENTEEN

Fury surged through Phillip like a wildfire, igniting every fiber of his being as he tore through the darkened streets. His grip on the handlebars was white-knuckled, the roar of the engine drowned out by the pounding of his heart. How could it have been Poison? How could she have been the one to take Rex from him?

The thought twisted like a dagger in his chest, each breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to make sense of the betrayal.

Poison had been the first person he allowed himself to care for since Rex’s death, the one he had dared to trust in a world consumed by darkness.

But now, all semblance of trust had been shattered, replaced by a seething rage that threatened to consume him whole. He didn’t care about Poison anymore, didn’t care about anything except making her pay for the pain she had caused.

As he raced through the streets, Phillip’s mind churned, each passing moment fueling his determination to see justice served. He needed an outlet for his anger, a way to unleash the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

The Temple loomed before him like a beacon of solace, its familiar sights, and sounds offering a temporary respite from the storm raging inside him. With a sense of grim satisfaction, Phillip pulled into the parking lot and made his way toward the Temple.

The arena was a hive of activity, the scent of sweat and adrenaline assaulted his senses. Phillip’s fists clenched at his sides as he pushed his way through the crowd, his gaze fixed on the blood-soaked ring ahead.

Each step brought him closer to the side door guarded by a stern-faced security guard.

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