Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Easton clears his throat and pulls his hand up in front of him, and it’s only then do I realize that Venom is wrapped around his wrist. Has she been there this whole time? Down in the dungeons, the tunnels? I hadn’t even noticed, but why would I notice a snake when there was someone being brutally murdered in front of my eyes?
We move in front of my apartment, and I fish my key out of the back pocket of my jeans. Lifting my hand to the door, I try to slide it into the lock, but my hands are shaking more violently now, every passing second only getting worse. “Here,” he says, laying his hand over mine and steading it before guiding the key into the lock. He gives it a twist and the door unlocks, slowly swinging open before me.
We stand out in the hallway, a heavy tension growing between us. “You know,” he starts, those dark eyes looking down at mine. “We may be monsters trained to kill and do the things others don’t have the stomach for, but we’re your best shot at survival.”
I swallow hard and drop my gaze to the snake in his hand, watching as she slowly weaves through his fingers, unable to bear the look in his eyes. He was so earnest, so honest and real, and yet I can’t help the feeling that he doesn’t believe a damn word he’s saying. “I, umm . . . I just want to get to bed and try to forget any of this ever happened.”
Easton scoffs as he pushes the door further open and waves me in before him. “Easier said than done,” he tells me. “That image is going to be ingrained in your mind for the rest of your life. Witnessing something like that for the first time isn’t easy. But for the record, you’re doing better than I did.”
“Yeah?” I question, watching as he starts his sweep of my apartment.
I find myself following close by, not trusting the rest of the apartment until Easton’s checked it out. “I was twelve when my old man thought it’d be a great bonding experience to take me on a hit. He had me hold down some guy and watch as he gutted him right there on his kitchen floor, his organs slipping out as though they had a mind of their own,” he says, moving down to Cara’s room and quickly checking over it, somehow not making a sound as she sleeps inside. He gently closes her door before turning back to me as though he hadn’t just told me the most gruesome thing. “I threw up all over the poor bastard. It wasn’t a pretty sight.”
My lips scrunch in distaste. “That’s . . . wrong in so many ways. Why’d you have to tell me that?”
He shrugs his shoulders, finishing his sweep and hovering in my living room. “I thought we were sharing stories,” he admits before giving me a tight smile. “Your place is clear, so you’re good to do whatever you gotta do. But don’t be surprised if you find one of us sleeping on your couch.”
He goes to leave when I find myself calling after him, and he turns back, waiting patiently for me to figure out what I need to say. “I . . . I don’t understand why Zade killed the doorman,” I question, my voice breaking. “He gave him what he wanted. He got the name. He didn’t need to do that.”
Easton presses his lips into a hard line before shaking his head. “Zade was never going to get what he needed,” he admits. “The name he gave . . . the motherfucker was lying in a desperate bid to save himself.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because giving us Percy’s name is about as useless as if he’d given us one of ours.” My brows furrow as Easton takes a second to consider what details he’s comfortable sharing. “Percival Winchester is Zade’s mentor. He’s . . . Well, he was more a father to Zade than his old man ever was.”
My brows shoot up, my mind whirring with the possibilities. “And there’s no chance he could be behind any of this?”
Easton shakes his head. “None,” he states. “Percy is in palliative care, dying of late-stage lung cancer, and can barely walk, talk, or feed himself. There’s just no way. He’d rather put a bullet through his own skull than betray Zade. Besides, in his current state, he couldn’t physically or mentally pull off something like this. Giving us his name was a slap in the face.”
“So why the hell would he do it then?”
“Who fucking knows,” he mutters, shrugging his shoulders. “Not many are privy to the state of Percy’s deteriorating health. Most people think he’s been having some time off at his beach house up north. Perhaps he thought he could use Percy’s absence as an excuse to pin it on him. All I know is every fucking step forward we take, is another five back.”