Page 4 of Broken Monster

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ChapterTwo

It took a moment for Dante’s gentle words to register.

He couldn’t be talking about me. There was no way possible that I would forget something like getting shot. That seemed like something that would stand out in a person’s memory. My brain seemed to just grind to a halt and refused to take in any more information.

“Which one of you fuckers shot me?” Astonishment flavored my voice, because I honestly was, well astonished. I was shocked beyond all reason.

“Me.” Nico didn’t have to say anything else. His voice was cold and devoid of emotion, but I could see the emotion in his gorgeous jade green eyes. I was still jealous of those eyelashes by the way. He might want to take me out for all the problems I’d been causing in his family’s territory. I’d been killing off his men, refusing to fall in line in front of all his little followers at school, and that wasn’t okay. Even though he needed to do something about me, there was a glimmer of regret in his eyes for the situation we found ourselves in.

“Well, I guess that answers that question.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about him being the one to shoot me. I must admit this wasn’t a situation I’d thought about. I knew getting captured was a possibility, but I didn’t think about it being Nico and his boys being the ones to take me down.

With everything that had gone on between us all, I felt a ping of sadness move through my chest at the knowledge that they had brought me in. I knew they were only doing what they had to so they could protect their syndicate. I wanted to be angry at them for it, but I couldn’t be. I wasn’t any different from them when it came to getting my vengeance for my parent’s murders.

If Gio had been standing in front of me, I might’ve felt differently about the whole situation. He’d put the hit out on my parents that led to them being murdered in our home in front of me when I was seven years old. If he’d been the person that shot me and strapped me to the chair, I’d be like a caged feral animal. I wouldn’t be able to control myself.

“We had our doctor patch you up. From what he could tell there weren't any internal injuries. Apparently, you were very lucky, I didn’t hit anything vital when I shot you.” By the time he completed the sentence he was yelling at me. Almost as if he was reprimanding me for putting myself in the situation where I could get shot and almost die.

I wasn’t going to explain how melty I got at the thought of him caring what happened to me.

That wasn’t the type of thought I should be having at a time like this.

“What was the point in patching me up if you were just going to work me over for information?” I wouldn’t have wasted the resources on someone I was going to kill in the end. I would’ve slapped some cotton in the wound and covered it up long enough to stop the bleeding, but I wouldn’t have called a doc. I would’ve done just enough to keep them conscious and able to talk.

The scrunch of skin between Nico’s eyebrows was all the information I needed to know he had no intention of killing me when this little inquisition was over. My body relaxed back into the chair as I stared at them. The loose posture of my body caused the pain to flare up again, but I wasn’t going to let on that I was hurting.

They needed to know I wasn’t going to be intimidated by them.

“If you aren’t working for Santiago, then there has to be a reason you’ve been tearing through my men.” Nico didn’t answer my question, but his evasion was answer enough.

There might not be any strong connection between us, but he cared enough to not want me dead. At least that’s what I was hoping. Otherwise, he’d let the bullet wound do half his job for him.

“Why should I make your job easy for you? You want to know why I’m doing what I am, then perhaps you should do a little leg work and do some digging.” I wasn’t sure why I was playing hard to get with my answers. I wasn’t really in any position to argue if I wanted to get out of this fucking closet.

They knew who I was, what I’d been doing, and that I was coming after their family. I didn’t have any more secrets from them. I was just delaying the inevitable. They were going to find out the whole story sooner or later. There was a large chance that Gio wouldn’t even remember who I was when the time came to come face to face with him, but I would remind him.

When it came to the telling of my story, I should be the one to tell Nico. There was no telling what lies Gio would weave for his benefit.

A quick slash of a sharp blade across the skin of my forearm brought me out of my musings.

Flicking my eyes down at the wound seeping trickles of bright red blood against the pale skin of my arm, I snapped my gaze up to Dante. A small knife was held in his hand. The quick rise and fall of his chest drew my attention. As did the smear of red along the edge of that knife.

“You’ll have to cut a little deeper if you want me to feel it, baby. I’m not afraid of a little knife play.” I swiped my tongue across my bottom lip as I looked at him.

A hunger that I’d never seen from him before burned in his gorgeous gray eyes making the blue flecks there seem brighter. His dark demon liked the thought of making me bleed for his pleasure. It was apparent by the thick hard line of his cock that was becoming visible behind the material of his jeans. From what I could make out from where I sat, he certainly wasn’t going to disappoint in the size department.

I’d participated in knife play exactly zero times in my life, and I’d only been letting my sarcastic nature take control of the situation a moment ago, but if he was down for that kind of shit, I was willing to play. I’ll never turn down a good time once.

“We don’t have time for your bullshit, Tora. You’re going to tell me what I want to know, or Dante here is going to cut you until you bleed out in this room.” Nico’s voice cut through the serious bought of eye fucking Dante and I were doing.

A flare of excitement crept into Dante’s eyes and a sinister smirk pulled at the corners of his full lips. The thought of cutting me was turning him on. Fuck if it wasn’t doing the same to me. I was a damaged little girl that wasn’t scared of a little rough play.

“If you think about it really hard, use that brain I know is in there somewhere, you know what I’m after.” It wasn’t really an answer. I was pretty much telling him to figure it out on his own.

I was playing with fire, and I hoped to hell that I got burned.

The cut along the inside of my thigh stung like a bitch. I had my fair share of cuts over the years, but I couldn’t remember ever feeling them before. Too much adrenaline pumping through my veins to worry about something like that.

These cuts I felt.


Tags: Brittney Kol Romance