Page 112 of Ricochet
Maybe in death we would find the peace we couldn’t find in this life, but I sure as hell wasn’t dying until I could see the lying piece of shit that shattered my soul and took everything from my sister, dead.
I wasn’t afraid of dying, I never really was. If heaven and hell really existed, I already knew where I would end up. Hell itself couldn’t be worse than this hell on earth, because living in this nightmare was the one thing I would never wish even to my worst enemy.
All of these men that only thought with their cocks, their fucking egos, their never-ending craving for more, they were the ones that made us this way. I knew Kieran wasn’t always a monster, but sometimes you needed to choose what kind of a monster you became. I was a killer, possibly a psychopath, but I made no excuses.
I killed, I maimed, I tortured, and I would do it all again if it meant protecting those I cared for. But I would never hurt those I was supposed to protect, and that was the main difference between Kieran and me.
They all swore that family meant everything to them, but that was such a bunch of bullshit. They didn’t care who they had to hurt to get what they wanted. If they did, I would know where my sister was, and this fucking idiot looking at me with fear in his eyes would have told me what was happening that night he destroyed every single chance of us ever getting back together.
No, fucking scratch that.
He sold his humanity, the trust I had in him, all for a chance to win over a person he hated more than I hated my own father. He had years to come clean about what he did, he could’ve found me.
He also had years to accept the fact that I didn’t kill Ava. I was framed for a monstrosity I never committed, but I guess that’s what I got trusting the wrong people.
And that slimy piece of shit standing behind Kieran, my own brother.
My flesh and blood chose to side with the enemy, not only betraying me, but the whole Syndicate. And I could bet he thought he would be able to get out of this.
Well, that was the show we wouldn’t be watching, because this time, I would be showing him who I really was. He spent so much time hating me for things I wasn’t even responsible for that he forgot what a weak little shit he actually was.
The sound of a gun going off threw me off balance, and as one of the Storm’s guys fell to the ground, it felt as if time stopped. Something cold landed in my left hand, and I turned to the side, only to see Storm placing a dagger in my hand.
How did he know?
I looked at it before meeting his eyes, and the same feeling like the day that we met resonated through me.
Familiarity.
Connection.
Home.
But I couldn’t dwell on all of that right now. No matter what he felt like to me, I couldn’t forget what he failed to do. I guess that at the moment I decided to choose the one I didn’t want to kill in cold blood, and if that meant Storm, so fucking be it.
The doors of the church banged open, and six guys I knew from Kieran’s group of bodyguards, filtered in, rushing to his side. Well, the snake brought his little reinforcements. Good, it was starting to get boring.
Sons of Hades stood in place, some of them looking at their fallen brother, and some sending murderous looks to the Nightingales.
Buckle up, buttercups.
I didn’t wait for any of them to move before I started running toward the small group guarding my brother and his masters. Just like a dog, he listened to everything they said, everything they wanted, and he thought he had freedom.
Stupid.
I gripped the handle of the knife harder, and before the first bodyguard’s fist could connect with my face, I dropped to the floor, kicking his legs. The bigger they are, the easier they fall.
This one dropped like a sack of potatoes with a little umph coming from him.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Storm’s guys going head-to-head with the rest of the guards, one of them on Cillian, and the other two with Theo and Tristan.
I couldn’t see Storm, but I also couldn’t see Kieran, and I didn’t have to be a genius to know those two were at each other’s throats.
The shithead on the floor grabbed my ankle, pulling me to the ground. The dagger clattered next to me as I landed on my back. The guard crawled over me, pinning my hips to the ground.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for days,” he sneered. With both hands in the air, he fisted them together and they started descending to my face.
Ah, shit.
