Page 71 of Gluttony

When Shorty and Big Guy step into the melee of arguing idiots, I lose my fucking mind altogether. In fact, in my defense, I think I’ve reached a point of complete and utter insanity.

Leaning forward, I grab the gun from the table and point it to the roof of the warehouse and start shooting.

“Shut the fuck up! All of you!” What I don’t account for is the fact that warehouses are made of steel, and bullets…? Well, they apparently bounce off and come back to bite us in the ass.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

“Bowie, no!!”

“Someone stop her!”

I hear the voices but all I see is the red of betrayal like a curtain over my eyes. My forefinger just keeps pressing againstthe trigger over and over until I hear the whizzing of a bullet way too fucking close to my head.

I duck to avoid it, although I’m pretty sure it does nothing at all, when I feel a presence beside me. On instinct, I raise the gun and scream, my lids screwed shut.

When I open my eyes once more, Scarface is standing in front of the barrel, his hands raised and a dark, foreboding grin on his face.

“D, don’t be cute.” Blondie doesn’t even sound scared.

That second of distraction is all it takes for Hadley to push Scarface away and stand in his place.

“Do it, Little Rabbit. Fucking do it.” Now his hand is on my wrist, his eyes begging me for…what exactly?

“You did this. You betrayed me, and for what?”

“I know, baby. We’re sorry.” Hadley’s words make no sense.

“Sorry? You’re sorry? For what? Fucking me while you played hide and go seek your prey? Or are you sorry for making me trust you? Maybe you’re sorry because my pussy will no longer be an open buffet?” With every word, my voice rises and rises until I see my hands shaking as I try my best to keep the gun steady.

“Yes.”

“Fuck you.” My scream is borderline manic. No, not borderline. I’m shrieking like a banshee, hurting my own ears, but I can’t stop. I can’t control my body or my voice or my mind that’s telling me my whole fucking life is one big pile of heated shit. When my screams end, my body relaxes just enough for me to take a deep, albeit shaky, breath.

And to my horror, I pull the trigger.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Hadley

“I’m not sure whether to be impressed or pissed the fuck off.” My brows are up in my hairline and my smirk is uncontrollable.

“I…I…Shit!” Bowie throws the gun to the floor and all the chaos from before grinds to a halt.

“Impressed. Definitely be impressed. Your girl’s got big ass hairy balls.” The guy with a scar, Dmitry, wraps his heavily tattooed arm around The Shadow, AKA J, his wife and the capo of the Reapers mafia crew.

Yeah, we got the mafia involved.

“I could’ve…oh my god, I could’ve killed you. Why the fuck would you push a gun into your skull when a fucking crazy lady is hovering over the trigger?” Bowie shoves her head in her hands and I think…yep…she’s crying.

“You needed to get it out of your system.” What I’m not telling her is that I knew the clip was already empty. I counted the shots and I know guns.

With a sharp flip of her head, Bowie glares at me with the strength of a million death lasers.

“But what if you died? I’d be a murderer and you’d…you’d be dead.” She waves her hands in the air. “Then there’d be some kind of gangland shootout in here and that blonde woman would be laughing over all of our dead bodies!”

“I think you’re being a little dramatic, Little Rabbit.”

“Dramatic?Dramatic?!Ha. Let’s talk about what’s a little dramatic, shall we?” Her whole body is vibrating with an anger I can recognize all too well, not helped by the snickers from The Shadow’s crew behind me.

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