Page 60 of Soulless Deeds

The two sisters beelined for Spencer while Psycho slumped onto the armrest next to me.

“Did you forget my promise, Echo?” Tanner asked, his tone creepy as fuck. “Cause I intend to follow through. I’m going to fucking gut you for this.”

The three sisters pitched their attention towards his delightful statement while that tiny, ugly dog sat between my legs, teeth bared as if he was going to rip off my gonads. I covered my dick with both hands, cringing at the feral beast.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on. I know as much as you do,” I replied, clearly talking to the Kings, now lined directly in front of me. One brown, one blonde and one redhead. Each entirely individual, yet with them huddled so close, their genetic relation was undeniable. Subtle mannerisms, minute feature similarities—not to mention the heavy atmosphere they all permeated like they were the harbingers of death.

I grit my teeth, holding my hands up in surrender, and pinpointed all my focus on Spencer. “I swear, I don’t know anything. I don’t even know what’s happened, Ghost.”

Spencer didn’t reply, instead turning to Micah for some type of confirmation. Micah didn’t even twitch, the only movement coming from her eyes that probed me from top to bottom. She was a whole bag of joy, that one. How the hell Psycho got his rocks off by fucking a robot was beyond me… Or maybe that’s what his crazy, unstable ass required.

As soon as the idea processed, her brows lifted and I saw the corner of her lips jerk ever so slightly. Turning back to Spencer, she spared a faint nod.Thank fuck.

Then, all three women shifted as one, their sole attention dragging towards the leader of Vice, who remained poised in the corner. I almost sighed in relief when they took that unrelenting pressure with them—so potent and powerful, I rubbed my sternum from the ache. The tiny dog followed their lead, turning on the new identified threat, his gigantic balls swinging from the sudden motion.

Emerson swaggered around the opposite side of the armchair, approaching Aster’s back, caging her in. “Spill.” Her previous angelic persona had completely disappeared.

Spencer appeared secure around her siblings, her tremors subsiding—except for her face. She still looked livid beyond belief.

“Tell us who she is,” Spencer said, holding up two photos. Just from a glance, I could already tell how incriminating they were.

“Holy shit!” Psycho yelped before snatching the photos out of Spencer’s grip. “I thought you said you didn’t know who your mother was?” he added, his gaze bouncing from the smiling female in the picture and her identical apparition standing right in front of us.

“I didn’t. Until I found those in Aster’s room.”

My mistress snickered, which slowly transitioned into a fit of giggles. Every pair of eyes drilled into her, the environment wired with malevolent friction that could snap at the slightest provocation.

I sat dumbstruck, legitimately worried that her mind had shattered and she’d lost the plot. I hadneverseen her like that.

Fuck. Hopefully, we make it out of this alive.

XXIV

Spencer

Demons knocked on the outskirts of my sanity. Aster laughed at me—laughed at us. The bitch was crazy. The only explanation for her unhinged reaction. One glance at Emerson and I knew her switch was nearing the point of flipping. Soon enough, Aster would be dead, and we’d never get answers.

I learnt my lesson from Appleberry. Death was the easy way out. No matter what, Aster was going to talk, by whatever means necessary.

I launched towards her, simultaneously straddling her waist as Emerson slipped her hand around her throat from behind and pulled her head flush against the headrest. I tapped the barrel of my pistol against her high cheekbones and let her read the desperation in my eyes.

The dumb bitch sobered fast, giggles choking in her throat as her muscles grew taut beneath my body, anchored above hers.

I flipped the incriminating photo of Aster and the mysterious woman and held it up over her face. “You’re going to tell me who the fuck this is,” I whispered, damn seething.

Emerson released Aster’s throat that bobbed with a hard swallow while her red eyes flipped between the image and me. Iknew what she saw. I didn’t need a mirror to gauge the uncanny resemblance.

Her uninjured hand raised in passive approach, almost as if she had no control over the movement. Before she could reach me, Micah whacked it away with a flick of her wrist, standing strong at my back.

“I’ll fucking kill you if you try something,” I spat. “You will not touch me.” Fran jumped up on the armrest for support, growling into her face alongside me.

My little chihuahua only required a word and that pretty unblemished mask would be ripped to shreds. I thirsted for her screams, salivated for the secrets she had clearly hidden from us.

Taking the threat for what it was, her expression morphed into the most genuine one I’d ever seen. “I’d never hurt you, Spencer. Ever. I’d carve out my own heart before hurting you.”

“WHO ARE YOU TO ME!?”

“You’re my niece,” she said. I had to strain to hear the low tone of her defeated voice. “My younger sister… She was your mother.”

---