Page 128 of Princess of Vengeance

Malcolm doesn’t even pause. He reaches the top of the stairs, pulls open the heavy door, and slams it shut behind him.

Elliot’s face drains of color as he realizes what just happened. Malcolm locked him in. Left him to die while saving his own worthless skin.

I’m already moving toward him, gun still in hand. I could shoot him right now—could put a bullet between his eyes and be done with it. But that would be too quick and merciful for this piece of shit. He deserves to suffer after everything he’s done.

I toss the gun aside. I want to feel him die with my bare hands.

“Don’t do this,” Elliot says, backing away from me. He pulls a knife from his belt, holding it out in front of him like that’s going to save him. “You’ll never get out of here. Malcolm’s men will be here any second. They’ll kill you all.”

“Then I’ve got nothing to lose.”

He lunges at me, slashing toward my already injured shoulder. I pivot, catching his wrist and twisting until I hear the snap of bone. He howls in pain as the knife drops from his useless fingers, but I’m not done yet. Not even close.

I drive my fist into his face hard enough to send blood and teeth flying.

Again.

Again.

I hit him until his legs give out, until he’s on his knees, swaying like he’s drunk, with blood streaming from his ruined face.

But he’s still conscious. Still breathing. Still way too alive for my satisfaction.

I grab a fistful of his hair and yank his head back, forcing him to look at me. One of his eyes is already swollen shut. The other is unfocused and dilated.

“Please,” he slurs through his broken teeth. “I can help you get out. I know the codes, the exits?—”

“Fuck your help.” I drive my knee into his chest, sending him sprawling onto his back and gasping for air. “You can’t even help yourself.”

I follow him down, straddling his chest and pinning his arms with my knees. My hands find his throat and squeeze until his eyes bulge and his face turns purple. But that’s too quick, too painless. I release his throat, letting him suck in a desperate gasp of air, only to grab his head in both hands.

Yeah, this will be better.

I slam his skull against the concrete floor. The sound is sickeningly wet, but I do it again. And again. For the way he held Quinn down. For the way he electrocuted Nico with that fucking cattle prod. For being a sick, sadistic, traitorous monster.

Blood and thicker matter spread beneath his head, turning the concrete slick. His eyes go vacant, staring at nothing. His body spasms once, twice, then goes completely still.

Only once I’m sure the last bit of life has faded from his body do I let go of him and sit back. My chest is heaving, and the pain I’ve been ignoring is slowly starting to seep in as the blind rage dissipates. My shoulder is totally fucked, throbbing with a wet heat that’s spreading down my arm. My face feels stiff with drying blood—mine or his or both, I can’t tell.

The alarm is still blaring overhead, growing more urgent with each second that passes. It won’t be long before this place is swarming with Malcolm’s men. Finally snapping back to reality, I shove my hand into Elliot’s pocket and fish around until I find the ring of keys.

“Atlas,” I call out, tossing the keys across the room. He catches them one-handed, already moving to unlock his cage.

“You good?” he asks, glancing at my shoulder as blood continues to soak through my shirt.

“Fucking peachy,” I reply, moving to Quinn. She’s still holding the torn edges of her shirt together, and her face is a mess of blood and bruises, but her eyes are still sharp and focused.

Thank fuck.

“Are you okay?” I ask, helping her up.

She offers a small, bloody smile. “Better now.”

Fuck, I’ve never loved her more than I do right now.

I frown at her torn shirt, then look around for something to cover her with. “I’d offer you mine, but…” I glance at what’s left of my bloody, mangled shoulder. “Not sure it’ll be much better.”

“I’ll be fine.” She shrugs and ties the two halves of her torn shirt together, exposing her mid-section, but covering everything else. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

---