Page 55 of Ricochet
He turned away from me, crouching in front of her body.
“Answer me!”
I jumped from the dresser and walked toward him. He stood, turning to me with a menacing glare. His hand shot out, taking a hold of my neck and backing me toward the wall.
“Are you forgetting yourself, little birdy?” he asked in a calm voice. “This isn’t your home, and you’re not my guest. I fuck a lot of girls, but only the good little whores like you get to have my dick with a full service.”
Cillian glaredat me from the other side of the table, but I just didn’t have it in me today to entertain his fucked-up mind. He wasn’t happy with me fucking Ophelia, but guess what buddy? I wasn’t happy with myself either. It was as if I didn’t have control over my own body, over my actions.
Truth to be told, I was horny as hell, and she looked like a fallen angel, standing in the middle of the room, with that pissed-off look on her face. For a moment there, I thought she would shoot me after Cynthia, but she didn’t. There was something else in her eyes then, in her devil eyes.
Yearning.
Pain.
I knew it all too well, because it existed in mine, and no matter how much I tried, I couldn't let it go. We were all yearning for a better life, but our souls were too scarred to earn it. There was so much pain in all of our eyes, and if you looked closely, it was all the same. Pain from everything we’d lost and everything that would never be again.
Families.
Friends.
Lovers.
We all lost somebody, and even if it wasn’t death that took them away, they were forever gone from us. Ten thousand missed chances for a better life, and we just threw it into the water thinking we could handle everything the motherfucking destiny was throwing at us. Were we all cursed, or was it all a part of a bigger plan?
A goddamn mess, that’s what this whole situation was. I needed to kill her, but my heart wasn’t cooperating with me. Why was it so hard separating who she was to me now, and who she used to be years ago?
I fucking knew what I had to do. I knew the plan; we went over it ten million times. Kidnap her, get the necessary information about the Syndicate and kill her.
Then why in the fucking hell was it so difficult to remember all those things when she looked at me with those ocean eyes? Cillian was pissed, which I could understand, but my head wasn’t in the right space for all of this, and it made me furious.
I forgot how much I always craved her. How even during the darkest times I always sought her. Even when both of us were too lost to this world to even be considered as human beings, I always fucking wanted her. She was messing with my head, messing with everything we had worked so hard on over the years, and I couldn’t let this infatuation I still had toward the little devil, this attraction, ruin it.
“Are you even listening to me, Kieran?” Tristan’s voice tore through the haze in my mind, bringing me back from the endless stream of thoughts I simply didn’t have time for at the moment.
“I’m sorry.” I shook my head, as if that would help to get her out of my mind. “I drifted away for a moment.”
“Or,” Cillian interrupted, “you were too busy thinking about the bitch sitting in our basement.”
He was awfully quiet while we sat here which was never a good thing when it came to him. That meant his mind was working overtime, either trying to come up with the best way to torture the information out of Ophelia, or he was plotting to kill us all.
“Cillian,” Tristan warned.
“Shut the fuck up, Kill,” I growled, but my brother just continued smirking at me.
“Why should I?”
“Dude!” Tristan exclaimed. “Cut it out.”
“No, Tristan. I would really like to know why we are sitting here, blabbering around, when that piece of shit is just sitting there, for days might I add, chilling as if she’s on vacation. He,” Cillian pointed at me, “forbade me to go there, when I have the right to squeeze the life out of her with my own hands. You do too, or did both of you suddenly forget what that psychopath did?”
“Kill, we didn’t forget—”
“Then fucking let me get to her!” He jumped from his chair and leaned over the table between us. “I want to hear her cry. I want to hear her beg for her life, and when I’m done, I want to see her bleeding on the floor. Those last moments, when her soul is leaving her body, I wanna be the last thing she sees before descending to Hell.”
My hands clenched into the fists, a sudden need to protect her, to remove Cillian as a threat, rising inside of me. Would I attack my own brother, when everything he just said was true?
You know you would.
