I should have just slit his throat, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to watch.
“This could have gone differently. You know that, don’t you?” When he didn’t answer, for he couldn’t, I took his head in my hands and moved it in a slow nod. “That’s right. I didn’t want to do this.” I cupped his cheeks, and he gasped for air as I moved his head from side to side in a shake of the head. “But our visions clashed, and one of us needed to go. And it sure as fuck wasn’t going to be me, Van. You know I’m too selfish to share what’s mine.” His harsh wheezing got weaker. “This right here? This is what makes me a good leader. Nobody’s safe, Van. Nobody. I guess what I’m trying to say is—” I held him fast as he took in a short, stuttering breath. The exhale never came. And when I dropped his head, I blinked down at my bloodstained hands. “—long live the king.”
The silence started to turn on me as my actions played in my mind on repeat. And for some unknown reason, sitting over my brother’s dead body, I just couldn’t find the will to care.
This was my castle, yes, but I’d never rule again. When it was found out what happened here, my life was forfeit. Luka Pavlovic would put a bullet between my eyes.
Because that’s what you did to sickly animals.
You put them down.
I thought about what to do now, but only one option stood out.
If I was going out, I was going out with a bang. And when I finally detonated my atom bomb, the explosion would be felt all over. I would shake every fucking window in this shithole of a town.
A bloodstained smirk stretched at my lips as I slid off the bed and stalked out of the room, barefoot and painted red.
Yes. They would feel me. I’d make sure of it.
Boom, bitches.
Chapter
ThirtySeven
Lexi
“No word?”
I poured my coffee, looking down at the black and gold mug, my lips pressed thin. “Nope.” When my eyes met Luka’s, I shrugged and forced a smile that I knew didn’t reach my eyes. My response was listless. “He’s never really been the ‘calling to check in’ kind.”
At my semi-annoyed tone, Luka smiled fondly. “No, he hasn’t.”
Over the last few days, Luka Pavlovic and I had gotten to know each other, and as the days went on, an unspoken understanding was formed. A mutual tolerance. He no longer treated me as a burden, and I no longer gave him the sass of a hormonal thirteen-year-old. Unlike Twitch, Luka was actually something of a conversationalist, and the more we spoke, the more I came to like the man.
And in our shared hatred of a highly reckless woman, we were perfectly matched.
After all, Luka had a lot to lose in this situation. While I didn’t rate losing his position as highly as losing my life, Luka’s reign was important to him, as much as my life was to me.
Every time I thought of what Ling was capable of, I pictured my son growing up without his mother, without his father. And that scared the shit out of me. There was so much I wanted to be around for, so much A.J. needed me here for. I wasn’t ready to meet my maker. Not yet. Neither was Twitch. So I gave him time because truthfully it was all I had to give right then and there.
As I sat next to him at the table, I ran a hand through my hair with a sigh and turned my weary face to him. “What’s in Cuba?” Luka lowered his gaze, running a finger over the table, and I narrowed my eyes on him. “Does it look like I’m running, Pav?” He looked me in the eye. “No, I’m right here, and if you knew half the shit that man has put me through, trust me, even you’d tell me to hightail it out of here.” My eyes softened. “But I’m here. I’m waiting. I just want him to come home.”
“He will,” he said immediately, before adding, “There’s only one thing in Cuba, Alexa, and for your sake, I hope Twitch isn’t stupid enough to bring that shit here, because—” He shot me a look of unmistakable displeasure. “—I will not be pleased.”
The way he was looking at me made my heart stutter.
“What if he doesn’t come back?” I whispered, and my eyes swept low to my hands, completely unfocused as I quietly stressed.
And for the first time since I met him, Luka Pavlovic sounded uncertain of himself. “You could stay here, with me.” He really was a sweet man once you saw past the intensity he wore like a hefty armor. And when I opened my mouth to speak, he added certainly, “But he’s coming back.”
Luka sounded so sure. I wish I felt the same. “How do you know?”
Missing Twitch came in waves, and today I was drowning.
He spoke low and cracked a wide smile that I was sure had panties melting all over the world. “Because I would come back for you.”
Sadly, only one man’s smile affected me. It was crooked and full-mouthed and made him look something like a naughty boy, and I adored it.
I rolled my eyes but softened it with a laugh. “Lady killer.”
“Acquitted,” he uttered quietly, and as he walked away, he winked, and I wasn’t sure if he was actually joking or not.
I should not have been chuckling the way I was.
Definitely not.
My skin prickled almost painfully as goose bumps trailed my arms, starting from my shoulder all the way down to my wrist. My brow knitted tiredly, and when the light breeze hit my arm, I frowned in my sleep and snuggled deeper into the covers.
Only there were none.
The wooden bedframe creaked and my eyes snapped open, blinking rapidly into the darkness, and as they adjusted, my heart jolted.
“Angel.”
The whiskey-smooth whisper was a balm on my soul, and I sat up and lunged at him, throwing my arms around him with a rough exhale. He permitted me to hold him to me firmly, pulling his head into my bosom as I knelt beside him on the mattress. I pressed firm kisses to his head again and again, and when he put his lips to the valley between my breasts, my nipples tightened with a desire that wouldn’t be denied.
Without a word spoken, I reached for the hem of my nightie and whipped it over my head, leaving me in nothing but a pair of tiny silk panties. My voice thick with emotion, I ordered him to, “Kiss me.”
Hearing the need in my voice, he did as commanded.
The moment his lips touched mine, I was lost. Moaning into his mouth, my hands found his belt and I tugged at it desperately, managing to loosen it before popping the button on his jeans, reaching in and taking his stiff length in my hands, palming it tightly.
Twitch’s mouth went lax as he released a low groan.
I needed him inside me. Right now.
In the darkness of night, I pled on a whisper, “Please, baby.”
The slight hitch of his breath told me I was not alone in my need.
Lightning fast, he flipped us, and as he towered over me, a stiff yank had my panties thrown down my legs. When my hands found the bottom of his tee, he muttered a rough, “Leave it.” The insistence in his tone had my core weeping. Kneeling between my legs, he held his cock in one hand then lowered himself, sliding inside me with a roughness that forced a small whimper out of me.
And Twitch gave me what I desired.
Completely dressed, he fucked me hard, he fucked me fast, and for the first time in years, he fucked me missionary, his mouth desperately seeking mine. But I needed to feel more of him. My hands moved jerkily, lifting his tee to feel his hard chest on my heaving breasts before wrapping my legs around his hips and meeting him thrust for thrust.
It was urgent. It was rushed. And, more than anything, it was completely inebriating.
Together, we were perfection.
You couldn’t beat this.
A grunt passed his lips, and he muttered tightly, “Missed you.”