Page 57 of Cruel Revenge

Once I get home, I’m going to have to get Andrew to start looking into Logan. If he digs up anything even mildly concerning, I’ll have one more problem on my hands to deal with.

Logan tries to squirm away from me as I press my fingers deeper.

He grits his teeth. “Someday, someone bigger and meaner is going to take everything from you.”

I tear through his stitches and plunge my fingers inside the wound, twisting them until he screams. “Is that a threat?”

I pull my fingers out of the wound and drop him to the ground.

He falls to his knees, hands pressing against the wound as he looks up at me.

The look in his eyes is crazed, and his other hand reaches toward the gun on his hip.

With a sigh, I remove my own from the holster and point it at his head, flicking off the safety.

“What Skyla did to you earlier today was child’s play. If you come near her or threaten my wife again, it’s going to be me you’re dealing with.”

He looks down the barrel of the gun, his eyebrows pulling together, hatred in his eyes.

If our relationship wasn’t strained before, everything that’s happened here today has blown it out of the water. We’re never going to recover from this.

Not that I would want to. I have no interest in calling him brother anymore, but the feds are too risky to play games with before I’m ready.

Lowering the gun, I kick some of the ash toward him, spraying his face with it. “You need to get your shit together and handle whatever the fuck is going on in your head.”

After tucking the gun back in my holster, I turn and walk away, ready to go home and deal with Skyla. Which is yet another battle I don’t have time for.

Though, battling with her does have its moments.

Maybe it would be easier to kill both of them and be done with it.

But just the thought of her not in my life leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Something heavy collides with my back, sending me to the ground as I groan.

The weight presses into my back as Logan scrambles to get his hands on me before I can throw him off.

His fingers dig into my shoulder to try and flip me over.

I slam my head into his broken nose, smirking when he rears back.

Blood rolls down his face, and he wipes it with the back of his hand, glaring down at me.

I surge forward and grab him by the throat, slamming him back into the ground, inches from a nail sticking up from a board.

His gaze drifts to the nail before he looks up at me.

His knee collides hard with my chest, all the air leaving my lungs.

My grip loosens enough for him to shove me off.

I roll to the side, avoiding the nail as he clamors on top of me.

His fist finds my cheekbone and pain blossoms across the left side of my face.

I groan and reach for my gun, but he pulls it out and tosses it near the door.

Logan punches me again, but it’s the last lucky shot he gets in.

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