Page 86 of Hidden Desires
“Totally. It’s just too bad that your aim is shit. You completely missed my magic spot. Even with a big red dot, you still can’t find the poor sucker. It’s okay, I guess. I’m sure you’re used to hearing that from the ladies.”
Blade’s father didn’t like that comment at all.
He whipped the next blade at Blade’s head, managing to cut across his cheek and sever part of his ear.
“Stings like a bitch, doesn’t it?”
“You think that’s painful? You should try anal,” Blade shot back, loving the flash of red that shot through his father’s eyes.
Another blade sailed through the sky, this one catching Blade right in the center of his hand.
The pain was excruciating, but there was no fucking way he was giving his father the satisfaction of hearing him cry out in pain.
If these were his final moments, he wanted to live them free of fear and with his balls still attached.
He was fucking Blade!
Master of the blades.
Badass rider of the Vipers, and now, hardcore fucker of Ace.
God, he loved that man.
“Having fun yet?” his father’s voice whispered in his ear as he gave his son another spin.
Nausea began to set in as his blood continued to paint the Wheel of Death.
If this were a sacrifice, this would be the part where the fires burned bright, and the ground opened up beneath him.
He had to hold on. His death was going to last for hours. He wasn’t going to allow his father to end his life so quickly and without excitement and drama.
He could be dramatic too.
The wheel stopped once again with Blade hanging upside down.
Seriously, he should get himself checked out. There was no way that his head should weigh so much more than his meaty man-ass.
Glaring at his father, he watched the man pick up two blades and give them a stroke against each other.
“You know, considering you like to suck dick, I kind of expected more screaming and begging from you.” His father gave him a smirk as if he had just said something deep and hurtful.
Considering his father’s ignorance and level of intelligence, Blade wasn’t surprised that his insults were just as oblivious and small-minded.
“Badasses, like Blade, don’t cry or beg for anyone.”
Blade’s head jerked up at the sound of the mysterious voice.
Next to his father, one of the oil drums exploded, sending fire and debris directly at the smirking man.
His father let out a shout, caught off guard by the fire that burst in his face.
Chaos erupted as five angry bikers jumped out of the darkness, attacking Blade’s father and his hired guns.
Marcus, standing at six feet four, swung a metal chain at Blade’s father, capturing him by the wrist and launching him several feet in the air.
Next to him, Nikolai lunged forward, swinging a bat and nailing one of the hired junkies square across the face.
Blood exploded from the young man’s mouth as his jaw disconnected from his head.
