Page 92 of King of Cruelty

Liam’s his and hers sinks already had a few of my things claiming half of the space. I crept to his side and drew open the counter, finding the Chapstick lying innocently among a spare tube of toothpaste, dental floss, and shaving cream.

I paused reaching for it.

My guys were smart. They had tricks hidden up their sleeves even when they were naked. What were the chances this was some kind of horrible trap that Bane wanted the bastard who hurt his girlfriend to spring?

A strong chance, but what choice do I have but to spring it? I won’t be able to trick Wilson again. Debra’s minions have likely already carried her concussed self up to Sunny’s apartment.She’s berating her Quay Street Squad right now for falling for a few texts and some screams.

I took a deep breath. “Here goes everything...”

Picking up the Chapstick, I uncapped the bottom and tipped it over—dropping a little rectangular metal device on my palm. It didn’t burn or blow up, so maybe there was no trick. I had what the Brotherhood came here for, and as long as I did, I had leverage.

It was obvious Debra and her partners made a lot of promises to their members that they had no intention of keeping. They convinced their rich Leighbridge “investors” that they were destroying the Merchant empire that held them back, but what they were really going to do was steal even more of their money, fake their deaths, and then replace the Merchants’ boots on their throats with their own.

As for their “lower-tier” members, they were the army six people needed to take on a criminal organization as big as the Merchants, but their deaths were assured the minute they joined up.

If they weren’t so blindsided by revenge, they’d realize that they didn’t need the flash drive to build a criminal empire. They already fucking did it, and when they stole the auction money, they’d be able to do it again ten times over.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was always to steal it from the Merchants. To destroy everything they’ve built, reduce it to ash, and build their hate and vengeance on their graves. They had to take away what their fathers died for, and no other outcome would do.

“And you won’t have that outcome without this.” I slipped the drive into my pocket. “All that pride and arrogance, Deb-Deb. It’s made you so stupid, you can’t see you already pulled the greatest coup in underground history, but you’re going to mess it all up because you’re a dumbass.”

“Who’s a dumbass?”

I jerked, stomach shotgunning into my throat as I spun around and came eye level to that smirk.

“I’ll take that flash drive.” It was snatched out of my pocket before I could move. “Now.”

BANE

“Kenzie? Kenzie! Answer me! Say something, baby, please,” I roared, Kenzie’s screams echoing in my ears. “Oh gods, what did you do?! What the fuck did you do?!”

Click.

The call ended, leaving me with only the eerie silence that prefaced its end.

“No, no, not Kenzie, no,” I gruffed, panting hard. My chest constricted—fighting the metal band tightening, tightening, tightening around the whole of my body. A roaring beat and battered against my eardrums, drowning out the world. The only thing I could hear clearly... was her screams.

Wilson peered around just to smirk in my face. He had me shoved up face-first against the door to my own apartment with my tied hands wrenched so far over my head, a rough jerk would dislocate them both.

“Hey, don’t make that face,” he mocked. “Just think, Debra wanted to do that to your niece to get you to give up the flash drive—which even I thought was going too far. This was a much better compromise. Better the woman you’ve only been fucking for a few months over your own family, right? Right?” He laughed.

He fucking laughed, and the red mist descended.

“Argh!”

Balanced against the door and his own hand, I kicked back—striking him so hard in the testicles they reascended.

“Ahhhh!” He dropped, clutching his crotch.

He hit the ground and I turned on him, stomping him again, and again—howling my rage.

Red-faced, Wilson flashed, caught my foot, and flipped—knocking me off my feet and bringing me down on top of him.

He reared to punch me and I headbutted him, crushing his nose under my skull. Blood spurted, carried farther on the gush of wind from his bellowing roar.

I dove, flipping head over ass off of him. Lying beside his head, I forced my legs around his neck, and squeezed.

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