Page 169 of Claimed By a King

Then he pulls the blade free, wasting no time in driving it into her abdomen over and over. The squelching sounds are disgusting, and I do my best to ignore them. But I can’t stop watching. Knowing that the sick fuckers are fighting for their life is more satisfying than I ever imagined.

Irina bucks her hips, but Rusty isn’t budging. He keeps stabbing her like he’s in a frenzy. He doesn’t even aimanymore, he’s haphazardly driving the knife into her body everywhere he can reach.

Her pitiful noises are faltering, becoming less and less powerful. And it only takes seconds before she doesn’t make a single sound.

“I think she’s dead,” Gray whispers into my ear. I nod to show I agree. “Come on.”

He unfolds his arms and places his hand on the small of my back as he leads me over to a panting Rusty who’s finally stopped swinging his knife around.

“Congratulations,” Gray says, coldly. “You won.”

Quickly, he kicks the knife out of Rusty’s hand, making sure to get them both away from the rival Prez before bending down to rip the mask and tape away.

Rusty stares up at him with wide eyes. “I really won?” he asks, like he’s not quite believing what he heard.

He really fucking shouldn’t.

I almost move back, not wanting Rusty to see me yet. But his eyes aren’t on his surroundings. He’s looking directly at Gray.

Gray nods. “You did. You won.”

I’m not sure why Rusty isn’t realizing something is off. If he’d just killed me, there’s no way Gray would be this calm and collected.

“I won,” Rusty repeats. “I really fucking won.”

Rusty rolls off the body and onto his back, which also just seems fucking stupid to me. Never show your soft side or underbelly to your enemy. Isn’t that like rule number one? If not, it totally should be.

While Rusty catches his breath, Gray removes the mask and wig from Irina. “Have a look at your victim.”

The Reaper Prez rolls to his side. One minute he’s smiling triumphantly, and the next, his expression morphs into one of pure horror.

“No!” he bellows. “Fuck. Irina. No.”

There’s nothing fun about the situation, but I still manage to force a laugh. “Your own flesh and blood, Rusty,” I scold as I move closer.

“What did you do, you crazy fucking cunt?” he screams at me, anguish clear on his face.

I shake my head at him. “I didn’t do anything. That right there,” I point at Irina’s mangled body. “That was all you, Rusty. You shouldn’t have fucked with me and my family.”

Since I’m not in the mood to listen to him, I pull the gun from the back of my jeans and flick off the safety. The only sound to be heard is the click as I pull the trigger, ending his miserable existence.

“I hope you fucking burn in hell,” I seethe as I look into his unseeing eyes.

Grayson

As soon as we open our apartment door the next morning, we hear screaming. My gun is tugged from my jeans and in my palm in a fucking instant as Zoe and I run downstairs to see what the ruckus is about.

“Who did it?!”

The screech is from one of the Cunts, and as we follow the sound and burst into their shared room, we see Rose seething at anyone and everyone looking like a madwoman.

“Oh no,” Zoe whispers, taking in Rose’s hair. Or lack thereof, especially on one side of her head.

“Who fucking cut my hair?! Why would you do this?!”

Zoe’s frantic eyes meet mine, and she doesn’t even have to say the words for me to know what she’s thinking.

The rat is still messing with us.

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