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He’d been trying to piss them off, I learned, when a second later, the man kicked his knee, and he dramatically fell forward toward me, then pretended he needed to use my chair to get up. When what he actually was doing was sliding his knife under my thigh.
We shared a look for a split second, both silently agreeing that this was it, then he was swinging around toward the man behind him while I yanked my hand free, grabbed the knife, and got to work when the widow was distracted by the chaos Dav was creating.
“I don’t kill women,” Dav said, turning back after shooting out Brett’s knee, something that brought me more pleasure than was probably called for, despite what he’d done to me, and what he’d planned to do to me, if given more time.
I saw Dav start to lift the gun as I shot up off of the chair.
“But I do,” I said, watching the gun sail to me, grabbing it by the muzzle, then sliding my hand to the handle as I turned on the Miller woman whose hand was shaking too hard to get her safety off.
“Must suck to have your reign cut so short, you evil fucking bitch,” I snapped, emptying the rest of the gun into her body, watching as she jolted with each bullet before falling to the ground, blood blooming across her ugly suit.
There was the sound of feet rushing down the stairs then, making me scramble toward the widow’s gun, grabbing it, sliding off the safety, and rushing behind a row of boxes to half hide from their reinforcements.
Until my gaze caught sight of a flash of blue hair.
Blue hair?
Saff?
Even as I thought it, I saw her profile, then her face as she whipped toward me, sensing my presence.
“Thank God,” she said, rushing toward me, making the others turn as well. “Dav?” she asked.
“I… he…” I said, but then we all heard it.
A deep, animalistic cry of pain.
“Uh oh,” Saff said, wincing.
I fell in at Saff’s side as she followed the others through the maze of crap gathered in the basement. Until we passed by the widow’s body, then the chair where I’d been captive and tortured for what felt like forever.
And there, just a few feet away, Dav was straddling Brett’s body.
No more than two feet away was the other one who’d been hitting me, the one from the night when I’d kicked him in the balls.
His head was cracked open like a watermelon, blood, skull, and brain matter scattered like a halo all around him.
My stomach rolled as I glanced away, but I found my gaze landing on an equally horrific sight.
Dav driving his thumbs into Brett’s eye sockets, making his wails fill the whole room as his body jolted like it was being electrocuted.
We all knew Dav had darkness in him, had a side that craved violence, but I’d never seen that side of him so fully unleashed before.
“No! Please!” Brett begged as Dav grabbed both sides of his head, lifting him off of the floor.
“Would you have stopped if she said no?” he asked, then slammed Brett’s head to the ground.
“Christ,” Elian said, gaze sliding away at the sound of another crack. Then another, this one wetter as his skull broke open, as the insides spilled out.
“He’s dead,” Renzo called, starting to move forward, but the second his hand touched Dav’s shoulder, trying to stop him from slamming the head more, a deep, guttural growl escaped Dav.
I’m not exactly proud of this part, but the sound of that sent a jolt of desire through my system.
“Cinna, no,” Renzo said, trying to stop me as I moved forward. “You don’t want to see—“ he started.
“He’s not going to stop if someone doesn’t stop him,” I told Renzo, yanking out of his hold, then moving forward, resting both of my hands on Dav’s shoulders.
“That’s enough,” I said, voice small, hoping something softer and sweeter might be what broke through all that rage. “He’s gone. He can’t hurt anyone again.”
