Page 140 of I Will Revel in Glory (Death by Daybreak MC 3)
I have to swallow past my rage, suddenly realizing as I do that my earpiece is missing. It must’ve gotten knocked out in the melee. Fuck.
She’s trying to hurt me the way I’m trying to hurt her, and the worst part is that it’s working. Between the two of us, I’m much more likely to lose my shit and react emotionally to the situation.
I force myself to shut those thoughts down.
Just in time, too, because Giulia throws her knife at me and dives for the Magnum. It’s in her hands and she’s taking a shot just before I drop down on the other side of the counter. She knows where I am, and we’re near the front of the kitchen now. I don’t have a lot of places to go. I’ve got walls on two sides of me.
Instead, I decide that it’s do or die.
I need to make a bold move, and I need to do it now.
I hop over the counter, surprising her, and our bodies collide. We crash to the floor together, and then I’m throwing the knife down and it’s glancing off bone. I do it again. And again. I’m hitting her, but in non-vital places. At the very least, she’s lost the gun again.
I jerk back and then drop the knife into her belly, the blade sliding through her flesh with this horrendous popping sensation. Can you really go to hell for killing the devil? I wonder, scrambling back and looking for the Magnum. It’s gone. I can’t find it. Where did it go?!
Giulia is groaning and rolling onto her side as I stumble to my feet and look around for the other pistol. Instead, I see a metal serving cart that looks like it was either being repaired or being put together. One of the metal supports is lying beside the mess of parts, and I pick it up, tapping the end of it against my palm.
My breathing is so loud, my heartbeat so ferocious, I can barely hear anything else. Even Giulia’s moans are low and hard to hear. She’s already grabbed onto the nearest countertop and is trying to drag herself to her feet.
I walk right up to her and swing the pole, hitting her with it and dropping her to the floor.
“Fucking biker filth,” she groans, blood spattered everywhere. I’ve cut her arms to ribbons. “It was the right choice, killing your whore of a sister and that monstrosity of a baby that was inside of her.” I lift the metal pipe—or whatever it is—up and swing it down on Giulia. Again. Again.
I’m beating her with the pole like I’ve completely and utterly lost my mind.
With a growl, I throw the pole as hard as I can, and it slams into the wall. As soon as I do, panting and shaking and bleeding, I look at Giulia and see that she’s still very much alive. That’s when I catch sight of the Magnum, half under the edge of a stove. I walk over to it and pick it up.
“You’re nothing,” Giulia groans, pushing herself into a sitting position. She turns to look at me, and there’s so much fire in her eyes, I almost feel bad about what I’m going to do. “Nothing. Just an uneducated, white trash whore. What do you really think you’re going to get out of this? Accolades from your mongrel father? I’ll tell you what you’ll get: nothing. That club will use you and toss you aside like so much garbage.”
I lift the weapon up in one hand, using the other to swipe some of the blood away from my mouth. The doors behind me open, and I can feel the presence of my men like a tempest.
“This is for Queenie,” I say simply, and then I pull the trigger, putting a single round right through Giulia Wolfe’s forehead.
Beast grabs me immediately, turning me around so that he can look at me.
“Where are you hurt, wife?” he asks, but I’m too pumped up with adrenaline to remember. Am I hurt? Did she get me?
I can’t seem to pull my gaze away from Beast’s. His expression is tight with concern, but underneath all of that is love. It’s endless and devastating in its purity. How long has it been there? When did he let himself drop into the void that calls itself true love, that boundless velvet sky where you and your lover are the only stars?
“I’m not hurt,” I reply woodenly, looking down at the feeling of hot fingers on my hip. It’s Grainger.
“What the fuck do you call this then?” he growls out, but his angry tone is laced with that same awe-inspiring depth that Beast holds in his face.
“It’s shallow,” I reply, but I’m not sure that it is. Mostly, when I look up and meet his umber gaze, I just want him to keep touching me. My heart is thundering, and I’m dripping crimson all over the floor, but mostly, it’s not my blood.
