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“You did what, fuckface?” While I talk, I slide the knife down, slicing into his ear. Starting to peel it off his ugly face.
“Ooh, he’s peeing, Carter.” Amara jumps up and down.
I shoot a glance at her, winking even before I check on the gun. When I do, I find she aims the barrel to the floor. So considerate, our woman.
“Can I kick him?” She bats her eyelashes at me, then Killian. “Please?”
Killian barks a laugh, stepping aside, giving her what she’s asked for.
“Have at it.” I hold him in place for Amara.
“No,” Preston, with his half ear cut off, cries. “Help.”
Christopher turns to his side, wiggling his body to where a broken vase shard is. Amara must have used it to neutralize the men.
“No, you don’t.” Killian rounds Amara and is on Christopher in a matter of seconds, crushing the hitman’s head with his shoe. “Stay, dog.”
He does. He has no other choice.
“My turn?” Amara looks at me expectantly.
“Yes, baby.”
The words barely leave my lips before Amara kicks Preston in the balls.
“Ow!” Preston mewls, trying to fold in half to shield himself.
“Good girl.” I straighten Preston for her a second time. His ear, half connected to his head, jiggles with the movement. “More?”
“Nope.” She places her hands on her hips, the gun still pointing down. “You two do it. This is the final part of my plan, so…do your thing.”
“I’m sorry. It was all Christopher.” Preston’s chin wobbles, slobber running down his chin. Chickenshit snitch. “He said the cunt asked for—”
I cut off his ear in its entirety. Straight through. His screams are music to my ears. Amara’s wide grin is one big dose of serotonin shot into my veins. As is Killian’s approving look.
“Why? Why?” Fueled by his terror, Preston manages to free himself from the shoelace Amara has tied around his wrists.
I hadn’t noticed she used her shoelaces to tie them up. Now I do, and fuck, how my cock jerks at the new images that flash before me. Her pointing her gun at them so they’d remove them from her sneakers. Making one man tie the other than doing the job herself.
“Carter!” she yelps while I’m lost in the fantasy.
Blinking, I watch as Preston grabs the gaping hole. He wretches, his last meal gushing from his mouth to his shirt.
“You’re not getting away.” I restrain his hands, pulling him up. “Never.”
“Give me my ear back.” His wails are garbled with all the puke still in his mouth. “Please, give it back. Let me go.”
“Would you look at this guy?” My hands are on Preston, but my gaze dances between Amara and Killian. “Thinks he’s getting out of here. Or getting a swift, merciful death.”
“No,” Amara growls.
Killian reaches out for her hair, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I’m falling in love with you all over again.”
Her pout morphs into a toothy grin. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” Killian stands in all his glory on top of Christopher. “Are we forgiven?”
“I’m not mad,” Amara answers him over Preston’s shrieks. “I figured you’d been protecting me from this life. That you thought I’d leave you. I can’t be mad at that.”
