Page 71 of Retaliation

“We’re going to have some fun with you,” the one to her right mumbled, popping his knuckles.

“Oh, sweetie,” she sneered. “The pleasure is going to be all mine,” she answered with a low bow, pretending to hold a dress between her thumb and index finger.

“Bitch, you think you can take on all three of us?” the middle one asked.

“Not to brag,” she drawled, a sinister smile on her lips. “but at least six men have described me as terrifying.”

“Go to hell, whore.”

“Oh, I’m on my way there,” she answered, pretending to check her nails. “They’ve reserved a special seat for me—it’s called the throne. So, enough small talk. Come and get me, boys.”

She held her arms open, and they did exactly as she had predicted. They stormed her, and with a low swipe of her leg, she knocked the first one’s feet from under him—his back hitting the ground with a hollow thud.

The second one stammered back after her fist collided with his jaw, and as she turned to the third one, her blood ran cold. Arms wrapped around his head, twisting it and snapping his neck with a blood-curdling pop.

“Oh, fuck off, Gavin!” she yelled. “Twice in one night? I do not need saving! I am not a damsel in distress,” she fumed as the other two men ran away, falling over their feet as their screams reverberated through the alley.

But Gavin didn’t answer or move. He stood in the shadow of the building, looking down at the body at his feet.

“I thought you had to leave?” she asked, stepping closer to him and froze.

It wasn’t Gavin.

Reaper looked up at her, a sick smile on his lips.

“Oh, is that what his name was?” he scoffed. “I believeGavinis unavailable at the moment.”

“What did you do?” she demanded, but fury and instinct consumed her whole.

She lunged at Reaper, catching him off guard. She landed an uppercut under his chin, the force of his head snapping back, causing him to stammer backward, but she didn’t stop. The heel of her boot rammed into his chest, forcing him back.

Summoning every ounce of anger and hatred from the past decade, Poison unleashed her fury onto Reaper. She made the mistake of letting him go the other night. She wasn’t going to allow it a second time. Not when he so willingly crossed her path.

Allowing the momentum of her kick to spin her around, she drove her elbow into his jaw, and he fell to the ground with a crash. Her foot found his ribcage, and she could feel the bone crunching beneath it.

“Minke,” he pleaded, but she brushed it aside as she landed another kick to his ribs.

“You do not get to call me that.” Another kick. “This is for Jonathan!” Another kick. “For stabbing him in the back.” Another kick.

Tears welled in her eyes, and all she could see, could feel, could hear was red as she choked on anger. She lost all sense of time as her foot kept colliding with his body.

Her phone rang, and she tried to ignore it. She was so close to finally getting her revenge that she wouldn’t let anything get in her way.

But it was her emergency ringtone, which could only mean one thing—someone in her crew needed help.

“Stay there,” she hissed through a clenched jaw, giving another kick to show how serious she was.

She pulled her phone from her pocket, the light blinding in the darkness as she opened a text from Skel.

SOS

Just SOS and a location. Fuck, she couldn’t abandon Skel, but she had her revenge within reach. For a moment, Poison stood torn between vengeance and duty.

“This is your fucking lucky night,” she spat to a whimpering Reaper as she left with a final kick to his spleen.

Getting onto her bike, she hoped to hell for Skel’s sake that it was a real emergency. Placing her phone into the holder on her handlebars, she activated the navigation system and followed the arrow to Skel’s location.

TWENTY FIVE

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