No fucking surprise there.
Marcus took a step closer to her, anger rolling off him. “She means fucking nothing to me, babe. None of them have.” His gaze flicked to me, and, while staring at me, he added, “Not even Stella.”
Blood roared in my ears, and I clenched my fists. As the craving for his blood threatened to take over, I forced myself to remember Storm needed him alive. Killing him would only cause them more problems, and that could possibly have an impact on Madison.
Fuck.
Sharon slapped him. “You think that makes it okay, asshole? You’re a fucking pig to women.”
He grabbed her hand, pulling her to him. “You think you can walk away from me that easily? Fucking try it and see what happens,” he threatened her.
My guys had been hanging back but they both took a step forward. I held up my hand to halt them and walked toward Marcus. “Let her go,” I demanded.
Training his filthy gaze on me, he snarled, “This is between me and my wife, Blade, so you can fuck off and leave us to sort it out ourselves.”
I kept walking. “No way am I leaving, and there’s no fucking way you’re beating your wife up again.”
He shoved her away and came at me. His fist tried to connect with my face, but I blocked it and punched him in the gut. As he stumbled, I punched him hard in the face. Bone crunched and blood spurted. My demons roared to life at the sight of that blood, and in that instant, I succumbed to the darkness. I let it pull me under and take over my soul.
My father was as good as dead.
For every punch I got in, I recalled a childhood hurt.
For every punch he got in, I remembered why his time was up.
My father would never hurt another human being again.
Every emotion I’d experienced at my father’s hands bubbled up as I kept punching. Blindly, madly punching. I was a crazed man. My father had made me this way, and this was his reckoning.
His sins were finally coming back to haunt him.
I blocked out the world as I fought to end his life, so it wasn’t until strong hands pulled me off him that I heard someone yelling out my name.
Scott.
“Blade! Fuck, don’t kill him,” he thundered, while fighting to pull me away.
I tried to punch Scott so he’d let me go, but he’d anticipated that and punched me first.
Motherfucker.
The pain roared through me, but I breathed through it, raising my arm to take aim again. However, another set of arms grabbed me.
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.