Queen of Quarantine (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep #4) - Caroline Peckham Page 0,252

held by you and no one else. But look at you now, all alone in the world with not a person to care. Your name splashed all over the headlines labelling you as the man responsible for releasing the Hades Virus into the population. You're hated by more people than I could possibly count, responsible for so many deaths that the world could drown in all of that blood if it was spilled at once. Not to mention the rest of the atrocities you committed at Royaume D’élite. Everyone on this planet aches for your death. The only feelings anyone has towards you are those of hatred."

"In fact," Tatum added conversationally, running her hand down Saint's arm and looking at him like he was the reason the sun rose in the mornings, while he stared back at her like she was the reason it existed at all. "A lot of people would probably kill themselves in your position, unable to bear the burden of having done so much evil and of being hated by so many."

"Well, a lot of people are sheep," I sneered, unable to help it in the face of this emotional bullshit. "And the only cure for such idiocy is death."

"Funny you should say that," a rough voice came from behind me, but before I could whirl around, a noose was thrown over my head and cinched tight around my neck. I was yanked backwards against a hard body as a tattooed hand clamped around my jaw and gripped me tightly, immobilising me as the rope was held taut. "Because we feel the same way about you."

"Father, you remember Kyan, don't you? Turns out, O'Briens really aren't all that easy to kill after all," Saint smirked at me like some gloating buffoon and I bared my teeth as I lunged for the flick knife I always kept in my pocket.

A gun pressed to my temple and I wheeled my eyes to the left as the hammer was drawn back loudly, my gaze falling on the third of my son's little group of lackeys. The footballer. I’d been able to track some of his movements due to his professional career, but I still hadn’t been able to trace my son via him. In that moment, his gaze was so dark and expression so cold that I was certain I was seeing exactly what appeal my son had found in him. That was the way of powerful men; we were always drawn together, but no true bond could form between us the way Saint tried to claim, because our struggle for supremacy would never end.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you," Blake said simply and my heart raced as I hunted for the route out of this. It was just another puzzle for me to solve, a game for me to win. There was a way. There was always a way.

The noose around my neck yanked tighter suddenly and I choked as Kyan forced my chin up and made me look to the balcony on the second floor where a man stood looking down at me, his dirty blonde hair falling in his eyes as he heaved on the rope again, forcing me up onto my tiptoes and cutting off my oxygen.

"Wait," I hissed, stalling for time as I scrambled to keep my weight from hanging from the rope entirely.

"I think Nash has waited long enough," Tatum hissed, stepping closer to me with her high heels clicking on the marble. “It looks like the wolf pack just caught up to you.” There was a pure and venomous hatred in her gaze which sent a shiver down my spine. But I wouldn't give up, I wasn't built that way. There was a way out of this, I just had to grasp it and then-

"My brother had his entire life ahead of him," Nash snarled from above me, his face the only one I could see which showed all of his emotions plainly. He was enraged, bloodthirsty, aching for vengeance and hungry to claim it.

He heaved the rope higher and panic washed through me as I was wrenched off of my feet, my hands clawing at the rope desperately as I tried to prise it off of me.

He hauled me up further, my heart racing as I choked and a pain like the most terrifying kind of burning cut into my neck.

I began to kick and thrash, grasping for my pocket in hopes of hooking the flick knife free as