Page 70 of Spade (Cerberus MC)

Page List


Font:  

We didn’t talk about what I should do if I was ever in this predicament. I know Spade has guns, but he went outside in his boxer briefs. It’s not like the man fucked me with a handgun attached to his waist. He’s just as incapable of producing a weapon from thin air as I am.

If he does have a gun, should I drop down so he can shoot Will?

Should I move to the right or the left to give him a better line of sight?

What if I move in the wrong direction and end up getting hurt by whatever means Spade plans to use?

I don’t know what to do, but I’m aware that this isn’t going to end well.

“Hi, Sylvie,” Will says with no concern that Spade is behind me.

He’s just as aware as I am that I’m physically stuck between the two of them.

“Will,” I manage, the tremble in my voice bringing a sinister smile to his lips.

“I came to give you a gift.” His tone is nonchalant as if he’s a normal visitor and not a psycho holding a weapon in front of him.

It makes him seem even more dangerous, a great feat considering the circumstances.

The front porch light gleams off a familiar locket as it hangs from the fingers of his free hand.

Confused, I focus on the gold oval as it spins in the breeze.

I’m hypnotized by the sight of it, my legs threatening to give out when I realize where I know it from.

My eyes snap up to his, a sob bubbling deep in my throat.

“No,” I pant. “Please no.”

“You recognize it, don’t you?”

Feral rage boils inside of me when he pockets the necklace, and I feel as if I wouldn’t feel the knife if he stabbed me when I was clawing his eyes out.

“My dad was livid when my cousin brought her home. I was very young, but I can still hear them arguing about taking a woman so close to where we lived. Dad was certain that it would bring the cops to our door. She had the power to bring down the entire organization.”

I’m gasping on air at this point, pain and past trauma taking over my body.

“Lucky for us no one even filed a missing person report on her.”

I shake my head. There’s no way he’s telling the truth.

“It was a gift, right? Something she always wore and never took off? My cousin told me she fought for it when it was pulled from her neck.”

“Will,” I beg, needing his words to just be another lie because this truth hurts too much.

I know he isn’t. That necklace was around my mother’s neck in every single photo I have of us together. My grandfather gave it to her right after I was born. He said she treasured it, but when I got older, I convinced myself he told me these things just to make me feel better. A woman who treasured a necklace would never be able to leave her child behind.

“Do you think she’d still love you today if she knew you gave up so easily on her?”

Sobs bubble out of my throat, my pain so intense that I barely register the shadow moving across the front lawn.

Will laughs, the most sinister sound I’ve ever heard, but it’s stops as quickly as it started when the guy who brought the girl to the clubhouse presses the tip of a gun to his temple.

“Give me a fucking reason,” he spits as my front porch light glints off the barrel of his weapon.

Will keeps his eyes locked on mine, the knife still suspended between us as if he’s more than willing to die just to continue witnessing my pain.

“Drop the fucking knife,” Angel demands.


Tags: Marie James Romance