Never a Saint - Lila Rose Page 0,57
Samantha,” I said softly. She was a shit mother, but she proved she had a small amount of feelings for me trying to stop this shit.
She shook her head over and over and then stilled to yell, “No, I won’t. I’m not moving. You said he’d be roughed up a bit not—”
The gun fired. I dove for the ground, and in the next blink, I saw Samantha’s body on the floor with a hole in her head.
A boot connected with my gut hard. I coughed out a breath, but I couldn’t look away from the body.
From my mother.
He shot her.
Shot his wife.
“Why?” I asked harshly.
Henry laughed. He bounced up and down as if happy he’d just killed her. “It’s my way. My way. I was sick of her bitching and whining. Now I’ll get what I want and won’t have to listen to her.”
I got to my knees, with three of them standing around me after one of the guys dragged Samantha’s lifeless body out of the way. “She was your wife.” White-hot fury burned me inside.
He chuckled. “You stupid little faggot. I only put up with her for so long because she was easy and gave it up to anyone who’d give us drugs.”
I ground my jaw together, fisted my hands, and it was the first time I’d thought of murder. I wanted his life gone. I wanted his blood on my hands, and I would get it.
It may not be possible now, but if so, I’d relish in it.
“Wallet, PIN, card, now,” he ordered, scrubbing a hand over his oily hair and then down his face, only to do it again and again.
Wallet.
My fucking wallet where I kept one of Death’s alarmed pins. Standing, I said, “I’ll get it.”
He hummed under his breath. “Good boy.”
“Do not call me boy,” I snarled.
Henry chuckled, so did the other two fuckers. They moved aside and followed me into the bedroom. I listened to their comments about how sick it was that I was with a guy while I snatched up my wallet from the bedside table, opened it, and took out the pin from the back pocket. I switched it on and hit the alarm before taking out my card. Turning, I dropped the pin to the bed behind me, hoping they didn’t see it while I handed over the card with my other hand.
“Here,” I said, and gave him the digits to gain access. I didn’t give a fuck if they took everything. I just wanted them out of the house in case any of the neighbors called the cops, and then Zion would be notified, and he’d come home. I couldn’t risk him… even when I knew they wouldn’t leave without hurting me. At least I knew Death would come with reinforcements.
“That the right numbers?” Henry asked, a smirk placed on his mouth, using the gun once more to scratch at his arm.
“Yes.” I nodded.
He handed the gun off to one of the others and stepped closer. “Is that the right numbers?”
“Yes, why the fuck would I lie? I just want you gone.” Not that they would leave, not after what I saw. Why Henry shot her in the fucking house in front of me in the first place, I didn’t have a clue…. Unless he expected I wouldn’t be alive to say anything to anyone.
Fuck.
Really, I’d already suspected even before he’d shot Samantha, but I’d hoped. Now hope was running out.
Henry pulled back his fist and threw it forward toward my face, but I caught it. Henry’s upper lip pulled back in a snarl. He pulled his hand free. “Hold him,” he ordered. The guy without the gun dragged me in front of him, pinning my arms behind my back. I struggled, but I was already sore and weakened by the hit to the head and gut. As soon as I stilled, Henry punched me in the face, the gut, and then my face again. My lip split, my eye stung like hell, and I wanted to throw up, but I breathed through it.
“Are those the right numbers?” Henry asked again.
“Yes,” I ground out.
“You’d better be right.” He shifted away. “I’ll let you two know when to leave as soon as I get the money. You know what to do.”
They didn’t answer, but they must have done something because Henry walked from the room to the front door. “Have fun,” he called with a chuckle before walking out and closing the door behind him.
Pain erupted in my side