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Emotions are fucking a
Learning that Saskia was Zaika wasn’t a shock. I mean, fuck, it was, but not as much as the shock of her father being born Patience. Or finding out that she was the rat all along, feeding shit back to Patience, and I fell for it. I fell for all her bullshit. So we conducted a new plan. I pull her in, to keep her shut out. It’s easy to sniff out the snitch when your face is buried between her thighs. The thing that they didn’t teach me, though, is the power of one girl. No motherfucker told me that there is always an exception, and no one has the power to choose who that exception is.
What’s the point of trying to be the good guy in someone else’s story when they’ve opened the book knowing that you’re the villain? That’s what is going to happen with Saskia now, and it goes both ways.
“Killian, are you okay?” Delila asks from the passenger seat as we start maneuvering through traffic.
Forty-seven. That’s how many cars we have loaded up, ready to take these greedy fuckers down once and for fucking all.
“Fine,” I snap, glaring out the window.
Kyrin shoves me. “So you were fucking the villain all along, good thing we don’t fuck to be the hero.”
I ignore Kyrin.
“We have seven snipers already set up, scoping the scene out and twelve men on foot.” The cool metal of my gold Desert Eagle presses against my hip as she says the words. We drive down a bumpy road, the gravel loose, kicking up dust until we’re pulling into an industrial building that’s attached to a house.
I mean really, coming back to Patience was dumb, but I give them props for their lack of creativity.
As soon as we’re sliding out of the car, with others skidding up behind us in a kick of dust, the guards that are standing at the front of the mansion fall to the ground.
Kohen is at the top of a tree with a smirk on his face. He’s right in his element. I’ve fucking missed the unhinged maniac.
Cocking my gun, I begin weaving to the front of the house as people spill out behind us, Keaton and Kyrin behind me with Kaizer. King is up in the back tree, popping off people as they come into view. This is what the fuck we do. I feel rage burn at my fingertips, stirring the side of me that’s trigger happy.
She fucking fooled you. My jaw clenches.
A young boy bursts out from the bush, charging toward Delila. She raises her arm and shoots the kid right between the eyes, without even flinching or looking.
I chuckle to myself, shaking my head.
“Shut up, Trickster.”
“Just sayin’,” I joke. “Pretty sure that kid was your youngest. You’re getting savage with old age.”
We shove through the door, and by the time I’m there, the soldiers from the other side, including my old man and King’s, are standing in the lounge room, with motherfucking Kosta sitting on his chair.
There’s a small, blonde girl standing behind him, laughing.
Laughing? The fuck. Harley Qui
Everything slows as I turn my head to face Saskia, who’s perched on the sofa, unfazed. Her hair is long, dropping to her hipbones and her slender legs crossed.
“Fuck.”