Page 111 of Pride
I was so fucking proud of her and the life we’d made. The family we’d created and were still creating.
In four months, Albie would have a little brother. My heart was so full, at times, I couldn’t handle it.
I looked at her, my beautiful wife, knowing I’d do anything for her. I’d kill for her. I had done. I’d killed my brother to save her. I’d killed her boss, too, because he’d made her life a misery. I’d choked him and dumped him in the canal where he belonged, along with the rest of the scum. It had been a long time coming. I was surprised I’d waited so long to take him out.
And the man at her office, Harrison, I’d killed him as well. He'd slapped her ass in front of everyone, fucking violating her. She wasn’t the first girl he’d harassed that day, though. I’d caught him leaving a store cupboard in the hallway right before the meeting, and as the door slowly shut behind him, I noticed a girl cowering in the corner, crying. He was a sick fuck. A quickdeep dive into his internet history, courtesy of my friend Ethan, who’d answered my text and come up with the goods, told me as much.
I made sure he wouldn’t hurt another woman again. But they’d never find his body, because Arran had helped me dispose of it. Arranging the vat of acid and helping me lift his body into the polypropylene drum he’d bought for the job. It still amazed me that acid could melt through metal and bone, but hard plastic, like that drum, was resistant.
Yes, I’d killed for my wife, and I’d do it over and over again if it kept her safe.
My name was Alex Kingston.
I was a proud family man.
And I’d kill anyone who tried to destroy that.
EPILOGUE TWO
The Final Word
This is the story of a man called Arran.
From the day he was born, his future looked barren.
Sold into poverty, violence and despair.
To a family with no morals, no dignity, no care.
Nothing to be proud of,
nothing to gleam.
Just another lad destined for the worker’s machine.
But nature versus nurture is a cruel twist to throw.
To turn his life into a rich man’s show.
Was his life destined to end in the way that it started?
Buried in an unmarked grave, forgotten, departed?
Ripped from a world that wouldn’t mourn his death.
By a brother he’d sworn to protect until his very last breath.
Yet, fate has a funny way of stepping in.
The rain that pours.
The earth that grows thin.
The shallow grave; no fancy coffin.
The power of his kicks as he screams,
“I
