Page 115 of Savage King

"I'll find you and tear your heart out, you motherfuckers!" I yell again.

And I will.

They don’t call me Savage King for nothing. I will peel their fucking skin off, inch by inch, savoring every scream, every plea, every broken sob that escapes their worthless mouths. Then, I will dip them in acid—slowly—let them feel it burn, let them rot while they’re still breathing. And just when they think the worst has passed? I will carve their hearts out with my bare hands.

They will bemoan the day they were born, their very existence will be a curse they’ll wish they could erase. And not just death, no. Death will be too merciful. I will burn their homes to the ground, erase their bloodlines, and destroy every last trace of their pathetic legacy. I will hunt down their friends, their lovers, their families. Not a single soul will be left on this Earth to mourn them.

No one will whisper their names. No one will remember they ever fucking existed.

They took what’s mine. They endangered my child!

Now, I will take everything from them.

The sound of a breath against the phone stills me.

"Who the fuck is this?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, Mr. DeLuna?" An ugly laugh follows.

"You know who I am," I state coldly.

Another chuckle.

"Then you know your pathetic life is over. Leave the women now, and I might show mercy."

Laughter—high-pitched and deranged, grates in my fucking ears only to be stopped by a high-pitched scream. Scarlet? Gigi?

The unmistakable bang of a shot rings out, followed by silence. Then more laughter, twisted and sick, before the line goes dead.

I stare at the phone. Vito stares at me.

Neither of us moves or breathes. We are both frozen as our demons attack us. My heart thumps inside my chest, while one of our loved ones’ hearts has just stopped.

The world around me shatters. With a roar, I grip the bolted-down table and pull, hard enough to make it groan against its fastenings. My foot slams into it next, the impact vibrates through my bones, but I don’t feel a fucking thing.

My heart is breaking—shredding into a thousand goddamn pieces. I kick the table again, harder this time, and something splinters under my force. But it’s not enough. Nothing will be enough. I thought I knew loss. I was so fucking wrong. This is worse than anything I have ever experienced.

Then cold stillness overcomes me, washing over me like a tidal wave. They want a war? They just fucking got it.

I turn to Vito, keeping my voice calm, controlled, and deadly. "What do we know?"

This hasto be some goddam nightmare. It has to be. How could I find myself hanging from the ceiling for the second time in less than two months?

One might think it would be easier not to be alone, but I can't draw any comfort from Gigi's still form hanging next to me. Seeing her brings it all back. The chase, the crashes; the last one, where a truck hit us. It's still fuzzy, but I remember Antonio's voice, yelling, threatening, and I remember the man who looked like an accountant laughing as he pulled out a gun. For a frightening moment, I thought he was going to shoot me, but then he pointed the gun at Gigi, and I screamed. He pulled the trigger, but he didn't shoot her, only the seat she was in before the other man pulled her out. Thinking of it now, he probably only wanted to frighten Antonio.

Antonio!

My heart bleeds thinking about him, about what he must be going through right now because of me. Familiar guilt rages through me, just like last time I hung in a similar situation. Tears threaten to overwhelm me. Will I ever see him again? Or will he arrive too late this time and be forced to stand over my dead corpse?

All because… because I wanted a stupid pregnancy test.

Jellybean!

I want to put my hand on my stomach, but even that little gesture is denied to me.It's okay, jellybean,I assure the little life growing inside me, because I know it’s true, now. I am pregnant. I am going to be a mom, and I will be damned if I let anything happen to my jellybean.

A small moan from my left turns my attention to Gigi, who is slowly coming to. They hit her over the head pretty hard. A smile curves my lips when I remember how she fought them like a banshee.

"Hey, you okay?" I ask, keeping my voice low. Right now, we're alone wherever we are. It's a windowless room, reminding me a lot of the place where I was held before, even down to the set of stairs across from me.

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