Page 187 of Adam
Shitty, I won’t disagree.
They came out soldiers. I came out a freak that didn’t stay down.
They’re dangerous. I’m fucked in the head. That’s the difference.
We roll up to the big bad entrance and kill the bikes. I throw a wink and a bastard grin at the camera because I know someone’s watching, and then I shoot them all. The heavy steel door creaks open like I just hit the damn switch with lead. Grayson’s freaky little tricks already did the job, so I don’t have to lift a finger.
I get off the bike and march straight through the garden with guns locked in my hands and my pulse going apeshit.
“Holy shit, they’re inside already,” someone shouts. “Grab your guns and move your asses now.”
People come at me from all sides, and I meet them head on without slowing down.
“Guns aren’t working!” another one barks.
Good thing Calvano is a control freak who couldn’t trust his own people without a leash built into their guns. Grayson kills the system, and every weapon in their hands goes dead at once.
Now let’s see how badass these assholes feel with nothing but their hands to save them.
“We need backup now,” the fucker yells into his phone.
I shut him up by slitting his throat, blood spraying on me as he gurgles and collapses.
I got a bit hard.
“Come to uncle Adam, bitches.”
Someone lunges at me, and I rip the knife off my thigh and whip it straight at his skull. I hear it crack and watch him drop like a sack of shit.
I drop a few myself, enjoying how fast it all goes bad for them.
The rest get erased by the boys behind me, keeping my ass covered while I push forward.
After we finish reinforcing the garden, I stand there, pulling air into my lungs, while I stare at the carnage. Ah, the smell of absolution.
The place looks like a battlefield. I can taste blood sitting thick on my tongue. I run it across my teeth and smile proudly to myself.
Icaused this chaos. Chaos makes me feel alive.
“Was that it?” Cain says, voice dripping with mockery as he lifts a brow at me.
“Are you tired already, brother?” I mock, dragging my bloodied hand through my hair, smearing it across my scalp.
Then I hear angry steps on the grass coming straight at me.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I bark, my eyes widening for a split second. “How did you …”
“You underestimated me,” Isabella says, defiant and visibly pissed. “I’m coming with you.”
“You’re not coming,” I scoff, already turning my back.
“I am.”
I roll my eyes and let out a sharp breath, turning back to her. “I said …”
Her fist cracks across my face.
My head snaps to the side. I go still for a second, tongue pressed against my cheek.
