Deviant (Boys of Winter #3) - Sheridan Anne Page 0,98
cut him deeper than I ever could and that’s all the satisfaction I need.
Brynn approaches the door, and in the final seconds before walking out of Michael’s cell, her gaze flicks to mine. “Make it hurt,” she begs, and then with one final step, she’s out the door and released from the hold of her husband. Though something tells me that he’s not the only one who will never see her again. As far as I can tell, Brynn Harding is taking her children and fucking right off out of here, away from her husband’s stain and embarrassment.
I wait a moment, just staring at the man who has had a hand in numerous attacks against me over the few short months since my eighteenth birthday. The gun weighs heavily in my hand, but even heavier on my mind knowing what it is that I have to do.
At one stage, I thought ending a man’s life was getting easier, but I was wrong. How could this ever be easy? No matter how many times I have to pull a trigger, and how great the relief is afterward, it will never be something that I can do without feeling it deep in my chest.
I’m a murderer. I’m something I never thought I would be. Dynasty has taken my innocence and corrupted it until it’s something that I don’t even recognize anymore, but this is me, and this is who I am, who I will forever be.
A hand falls to my shoulder and squeezes and I suck in a surprised gasp. “Let me,” Carver says, his other hand twining around mine as he attempts to take the gun from me.
I look up and meet his heavy stare, knowing that he’d do anything to take the burden off my shoulders, but I have to do this. The burden is mine.
I tighten my grip on the gun and shake my head. “No. I will do it.”
“Are you sure?”
I take a shaky breath and position myself in front of Michael who instantly bucks against his binds, pulling and pushing, desperately trying to get free and save himself. I raise my hand, the gun pointing right between his eyes.
My hand is steady despite the fear that rattles deep inside me.
As if sensing my unease, Carver steps in behind me, and just as he did with Sam Delacourt, he positions my aim, making sure I won’t miss.
With his chest pressed against my back and his other hand on my hip, I let out another breath. Then with fire burning in my stomach and determination pulsing through my veins, I pull the trigger and send a bullet square between Harding’s eyes, evening the score.
Come and get me, Paris. I’m ready.
CHAPTER 25
Grayson’s fingers trail up and down my back soothing every nerve within my body as I stare up at my bedroom ceiling. Apparently having both Cruz and Grayson lying in my bed is enough to mask the taint that Sara left in my room, because damn, lying here between them both with their hands grazing along my body has me forgetting that she even exists.
Well … with the pills the psych ward is giving her, I bet she doesn’t even remember that she exists.
“Do you think they’re alright?” I ask the boys, referring to King and Carver, who elected to stay behind in the cells and clean up the mess created by my bullet shooting through the center of Michael Harding’s brain.
“They’re fine,” Cruz says, tightening his grip on my hip. “It’s not the first time they’ve had to clean brains off the back wall of a holding cell, and it won’t be the last.”
“Do I even want to know?”
Grayson laughs. “Most chicks would say no, but you’d probably get turned on.”
My brows furrow and I raise my head off his chest to meet his eyes. “Umm … what?”
Cruz laughs, moving his hand from my hip to gently smack my ass as Grayson continues. “Carver slammed some fuckwit against the wall so hard that he shattered his skull and smeared brains all over it.”
My brows instantly fly back up. “You’re fucking with me,” I say, watching him through a wide, shocked stare.
“Wish I was,” Grayson says, his lips pulling into a sexy as fuck smirk.
Cruz pulls me back, pressing himself up against me. “In Carver’s defense, the dude was really fucked in the head, even more so than you,” he teases.
I laugh. “Not possible. No one is more fucked in the head than me.”