Page 175 of Legacy
This girl?
I don’t even know her name, but I’m already on top of her.
She’s trying to breathe, probably can’t.
Could be thecowon her chest.
Could be the blood gushing from her nose into her throat.
I should probably stop swinging.
Icouldkill her.
A firm tug on my upper arm breaks through the haze.
“Bella.”Nico’s voice cuts through like a blade.
He pulls me back, dragging me toward the door where I last saw Angelo disappear.
I glance over my shoulder.
The redhead is being helped up by the bartender, coughing and gasping and looking like hell.
Hm.
Didn’t kill her.
Maybe next time.
Nico takes me down a flight of stairs and opens another door.
The smell hits instantly—rancid and thick. Blood. Piss. Fear.
It clings to the air like a second skin.
It smells like death.
The lights are low, flickering. Shadows stretch long and warped across concrete.
Men are chained to the walls. One is strapped to a chair, barely conscious, his shirt soaked with red and darker things.
And then there’s my husband.
Shirtless.
Sweat dripping down his chest.
Carving his victim like a Thanksgiving turkey.
He turns at the sound of the door clicking shut.
His pupils are blown wide. His breaths come in sharp, heavy pulls.
His face is wild.Feral.
“Why the fuck would you bring her in here?” he snaps at Nico before his eyes land on me.
And then they change.
