‘No,’ both siblings shout.
I groan.
This was supposed to be a simple transaction, one where I popped in for some supplies and went on my merry old way like every other time.
Isla is so going to kill me. And if she wakes up before me, I’m definitely dead. I promised my princess morning foot rubs and I’m no lying man.
The pressure from one of the ropes securing my wrists loosens, granting me more room to move.
Bingo.
Before I can get to working away at the rest, an almighty bang sounds from deep into the darkness of the tunnel followed by the bright illumination of… is that fucking fireworks?
All three of them look at each other, the wash of fear and confusion on their face.
Then the beautiful harmony of a very pissed off mama bear echoes towards us.
‘Where is he!’
‘Who… who’s’
‘My queen,’ I grin. ‘Better run now because she’s raging.’
Chapter forty-four
Isla
‘He’s a dead man walking and so is she,’ I spit as I storm down the tunnel following the stupid light at the end of it.
I bet all those sayings never meant the light at the end of the tunnel would be the father of your child and the woman he left you for did it.
‘Ohhhh, she’s going to fuck some shit up!’ Luna cheerily skips beside me.
‘That’s what I’m worried about,’ I hear Fauna add.
Elizabeth is silent as she moves ahead. Her head looks side to side as she vigilantly scans our surroundings. ‘Three figures ahead.’
We’d killed a few on our way down here. They weren’t much of a challenge, more of an underwhelming nuisance if anything. Whoever this group is, they aren’t used to being challenged.
‘Is he there?’
She nods. ‘Four including him. He’s… in a chair.’
There is a hesitancy to her voice and I try to look around her to see what has caused it.
True to Liz’s words, three people stand in the light: two men and a woman. I grit my teeth at the sight of her and before I can think of what I’m doing or the danger I’m obviously putting myself in, I storm directly at her, grip the bitch by the collar of her stupid blue shirt and bury my fist in her face.
I grin as I hear the satisfying crunch of her nose breaking.
People are shouting but I couldn’t give a fuck. All I care about is hearing more bones breaking.
I swing but someone grips my wrist, ‘Isla. I don’t think she’s his other girl.’
Ready to argue someone forces my face to look at the figure sat — no tied to a chair.
I take in Liam’s bloodied appearance, his mask wet with what I know is blood. The usually white boning of the skull smeared crimson.
Like a freshly boiled kettle, I turn back to the bitch with a new level of rage. ‘What the fuck did you do to my man!’
