Griff.
They held me back, and Marcus staggered forward, his mouth twisted in a sneer. Blood dripped down his face as he threatened me. “That’s the last fucking time that happens, you worthless piece of shit! I should have made your mother fucking abort you all those years ago.”
His words didn’t hit their mark. Not anymore. He’d shredded me for too long now, and I’d finally realised his words were as meaningless as he was.
Bang!
The shot rang out loud and clear, and the bullet that hit Marcus sent him reeling back. My head snapped around to find the perpetrator, and I was stunned to find Sharon staring at him with a gun in her hand. She began walking toward him, her intent to shoot him again evident. Scott let me go so he could halt her progress, but Sharon was lost in some kind of crazed state, too, and Scott struggled to stop her. Griff let me go, moving quickly trying to help Scott.
I didn’t give them my attention at all. It was focused completely on Marcus, and on the pain he was in. He deserved that pain and so much more for everything bad he’d ever done in his life. My demons took over again, and I pulled my knife from its sheath.
My father lay on the ground, staring up at me with a look of sheer terror as I approached.
Yeah, motherfucker.
My head pounded as the rage took over.
The rage I’d lived with my whole life.
The rage I’d done my best to deny and keep locked deep in my soul.
It swirled up through me, and my chest threatened to explode as it desperately fought to be let out.
And then...
I stopped fighting it.
I let it consume me.
I let it shatter around me, and, in that moment, I met the darkness I’d hidden even from myself.
My darkest moment.
The first time the blade sliced through his flesh, satisfaction like I’d never experienced before rushed through me.
The second slice produced a strong sense of justice.
The third slice, however, brought with it all the anger I’d bottled up my entire life.
I lost track after that as I stabbed my father to death.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Layla
I lay on the bed next to Donovan and held him while he slept. It had been about five hours since he’d fallen asleep, and it was the most peaceful I’d ever seen him. Usually, he thrashed about in his sleep and called out Ashley’s name. Tonight, he hadn’t moved, except to curl closer to me. He now lay with his head on my chest and his arm across my body, holding me.
He’d killed his father this afternoon. I didn’t have a clue what was happening in the back alley until Griff came in and asked me to close the bar so they could ensure complete privacy while dealing with it. I’d immediately done what he’d asked and gone to find Donovan. Pain had pierced my heart when I’d found him on his knees on the ground out the back, covered in his father’s blood. When I’d knelt next to him, he’d looked at me with such a haunted expression on his face. I’d never seen someone so broken in my entire life, and the need to make it all better had overwhelmed me.
Nothing would make this all better for him, though.
I’d eventually managed to get him to stand, and Scott had helped me get him upstairs to the bathroom where I stripped his clothes off and put him under the shower. Scott had left us so he and Griff could take care of Marcus’s body and the mess in the alley. They also had to take care of Sharon who had fallen apart, too.
That had been about six hours ago. Once I’d cleaned Donovan up, I’d gotten him into bed, but he hadn’t fallen asleep straight away. He’d spent a long time staring into space before finally succumbing to sleep.
I’d hated seeing him like that. It wasn’t the strong, powerful man I knew. And I hated his father even more for it. As far as I was concerned, his father had deserved everything he’d got today.
After Donovan fell asleep, I stayed awake as my mind processed it all. I was beginning to feel sleepy now, and just as my eyes closed, he shifted again and murmured something in his sleep. My eyes flew open to find him watching me with a look I didn’t recognise from him.
“Hey,” I whispered.
His arm tightened across my body as he whispered back, “Hey.”
I sensed he didn’t need me making small talk, so I remained silent, waiting for him to take the lead here. We lay there watching each other quietly for what felt like ages, until he finally asked, “You okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”
“I’ll always worry about you.”
I reached my hand out to lightly trace his cheek. “You’re an amazing man, Donovan Brookes,” I murmured.
He stared at me. “I’m amazed you’re still here. I thought you’d be long gone.”
I frowned. “What?”