Page 44 of It Shouldn't Be You
“Logan, son, what’s going on? Where’s the culprit? I want to give him a piece of my mind,” he stammers, sweat beading on his forehead. He’s seconds from pissing himself.
“Well, that’s the thing. He’s standing right in front of me.”
In one swift move, I lunge and lock him in a headlock. Dragging him to the medical table, I strap him down and grab a pair of scissors. Cutting off his clothes, I swap the scissors for a knife and start carving a rat into his stomach. He howls in pain, blood dripping everywhere.
“I didn’t mean to hurt him! It’s all a misunderstanding,” he pleads, tears streaming down his face.
“Oh, just like the misunderstanding where you lied about not knowing you have two sisters?” I snarl, driving the knife into his shoulder and twisting it. He screams, the sound music to my ears.
“I made a promise! What was I supposed to do?” he cries.
“Not fucking lie, for starters!” I spit, pulling the knife free only to stab it into his other shoulder.
“If I was you, I’d start talking,” James says from his position by the stairs.
Peter starts to ramble, his words desperate. “Listen, you don’t even know the girl. I’m your blood!”
“My blood? You attacked my wife—myfucking wife, who I love—and now you’re trying to lecture me about family? Somefucking blood you are!” I roar, slamming the knife into his stomach.
“It was all Angus! He wanted to set up the auctions, and the men wouldn’t leave me alone. I thought if you were distracted with Abigail, you wouldn’t notice!” he sputters, his voice trembling.
“And your second sister?” I ask, my voice low.
“That bitch can rot in hell. That whore should’ve honoured her word,” he snarls.
I’ve heard enough.
With a snarl, I pull the knife free and stab him one final time. Then, without hesitation, I empty my gun into his head. Blood splatters across me, and I revel in it.
Abigail wanted blood. She sure as hell got it.
Chapter 37
Iwill carry the guilt of Cole’s death with me forever. It’ll haunt my dreams as well as my waking thoughts. He had so much life to live, he had so many aspirations for the future. For him to just be snuffed out likethatfeels beyond cruel.
“He wouldn’t have even been here if it wasn’t for me.” My words break the fragile silence that’s settled over the bathroom. After doing a sweep of the house, Logan had dismissed Alex and locked the door before herding me upstairs where he bundled me into a bath while he showered Peter's blood away before joining me.
“It’s not your fault, Abigail. Listen to me. Peter has been up to shady shit for a while now; it was only a matter of time before shit blew up in our faces. I’m so fucking sorry. Blame me. Take it out on me, but please, don’t blame yourself. Lay it at my feet. Don’t take this on.” He clutches me closer to his chest, as if I’ll float away without him grounding me.
Leaning my head back against his chest, I soak in his strength as I let the tears flow.
Tomorrow, I’ll have to play the part of a strong mafia wife, but for tonight, I’ll break apart in my Viking’s arms. Never again will I be caught so off guard. So unprepared.
Over my dead fucking body.
One week.
Seven days.
One hundred and sixty-eight hours.
A lifetime and yet also a blink of an eye.
Everything moved both at a snail's pace and lightning quick after Cole’s death. Logan got in contact with Jonathan to break the news that night and by the next morning the compound was swarmed with Four Points men, ready to bury their heartbreak in bloodlust. From there, Jonathan managed everything for Liam and Aidan who were practically comatose with grief.
At the same time, as Logan cleared out Peter’s things, he uncovered just how deep Peter's ties to the human trafficking ring went and just what awaited me if he had managed to get me away from the compound that night. Cole saved me from more than he’ll ever know, and the fact I couldn’t save him is something I’ll have to live with. Forever.
Watching Aidan and Liam—two of the strongest men I know—struggle to carry Cole’s coffin feels like a knife to my heart. They never wanted him to come with me, and now, as we stand watching his coffin lowered into the ground, surrounded by a seaof Four Points and Clan men, it’s all I can do to keep my grief from bringing me to my knees.
