Page 167 of Where Sinners Repent

His grin is back on Ash.

Ash’s grip tightens around his gun, body taut with the need to press down on the trigger.

Unbothered, Zeke slides his hands into his pockets. He doesn’t need a weapon when he’s got weapons behind him.

“You know, I’ve had a lot of time to think about what I’m going to do to you, Ash,” Zeke hums, taking lazy steps on the concrete. “How I should kill you and yours. I got pretty creative there in the end.”

“Spit it out, Zeke,” Ash growls. “You’re fucking need for dramatics is getting old.”

Zeke huffs a laugh.

“I want my club back. My territory...” Zeke spins, lifting his hand as if he’s just thought of something. “And your port!”

Ash gives him nothing.

“It’s okay,” Roxy whispers, pressing harder against my shoulder. “It’s okay. We are going to fix this.”

I almost laugh.

Surrounded by Wraiths, kneeling in my blood, trying to reassure me. Me.

“I can’t lose you,” she murmurs, looking into my eyes. “Please don’t fucking die.”

“You should probably get him out of here, sweetheart,” Zeke croons.

Roxy’s eyes ignite with fire. The part of her that burns with enough wrath to bring a city down. The part that she rarely sets free.

“Don’t fucking sweetheart me,” she growls.

My skin erupts in goosebumps at the rasp and power in her voice. If I had enough blood, it would be running south and tenting my fucking pants.

Zeke looks entertained enough not to take offence.

“Fair enough.”

Zeke looks around the room one last time. “Well, it’s been nice, but I best be off. President things and all that...” His hand waves dismissively, and he turns around.

The Wraiths open up for him, parting as he turns his back to leave.

I watch, waiting for him to turn and order his men to spray us with bullets. To torture us or continue playing this weird game.

“The fuck, Zeke?” Ash grits out.

Zeke turns over his shoulder. The way he is acting, so damn casual, has tension oozing through the air.

“I could kill you now,” he murmurs, shrugging. “And some ambitious Devil will take your place. They’ll fight for the port. They’ll fight for the territory. Today, I’m taking it because I can and you’ll let me. Tomorrow, who knows? I might come for your club... I might not.”

He shrugs again.

“You’re alive because I want you alive, Ash.” Zeke’s voice loses every trace of humour and amusement. “And when I want you dead, I’ll have ruined you and yours so thoroughly, you’ll be on your hands and knees, begging me to pull the trigger.”

My eyes close. Just for a second.

We aren’t dying. Not tonight. But maybe that’s worse. Because Zeke has an endless supply of resources. He has an army. And now... he has our main source of income and suppy.

His got his hand wrapped around our throats. He knows it, and more importantly, he wants us to know it too.

Killing Ash would be too easy for him. Too quick and painless. Zeke wants him alive to see everything he built crumble around him. To watch his Devils go to ruin, and not be able to do a single thing about it. Piece by fucking piece until there’s nothing left.