Reckless Temptations (Tempted #4)(117)
I didn’t give a fuck either.
“Let them go. Now! Please, don’t hurt them. They’re innocent,” he pleaded.
“You’re right, they are, just like mine were. So now here’s the part where you become me. Where you have to sit there and know there is nothing you can do to save them but there is one difference,” I stated, handing him the phone as I stood up. “I wondered for nearly three days if my family was going to live or die, you’ll wonder for eternity.”
Anthony stepped into the view of the camera and slowly pulled a gun from his back pocket just as I drew mine and aimed it at Sun Wu.
He screamed as he watched Anthony lift the gun and aim it at his wife just as I aimed mine at his chest.
Bang!
One shot to the heart.
That’s for Lauren and Eric.
Bang! Bang!
Two shots between the eyes.
That’s for Bones.
My phone dropped from his hand as Satan came and claimed his soul.
See ya motherfucker!
This shit was personal.
I glanced down at my phone and watched as Anthony cut the wires to the feed, killing the image on my screen.
It was all part of the plan.
I took the burner phone out of my cut and called 911. They would send the cops over to Wu’s house and cut his family loose and find the ransom note that we left behind, staging this whole thing to look like he pissed one of his trade partners off. Eventually, they’ll find his body in this empty warehouse where he conducted business overseas and the story will all match up.
Plans.
They don’t always go astray.
Some things are just meant to be.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I’m calling to report a home invasion at two-thirty-six Cromwell Ave,” I said, before disconnecting the call and stepping outside to meet Mike.
“We all good?” He asked.
“Yeah, we’re good,” I confirmed.
Revenge was sweet.
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Lethal Temptations by Janine Infante Bosco
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Leather.
Lace.
Me.
Her.
A temptation so lethal neither of us may survive.
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Lethal Temptations Prologue
“I’m getting out of here,” Riggs said, throwing some money on the bar. I nodded, a delayed reaction to his departure, and lifted the shot glass to my lips, welcoming the smooth poison down my throat. Unsatisfied and insatiable I flicked the empty glass across the bar.
“Another, boss?” the bartender asked.
I shook my head, pushing back my stool and slowly rising to my feet. The alcohol wasn’t making me numb like it usually did and the methadone doesn’t bring me to the state of oblivion I crave.
I’m a junkie.
A fucking junkie.
I’ve got the track marks on my arms to prove it.
And I make no apologies for it.
This is who I am, or what is left of who I used to be, depending on who you ask.
I feel her innocent eyes on me, burning a hole into my back, setting my cold heart on fire. I won’t turn around, I won’t even acknowledge her because I have enough demons and don’t need those dark sad eyes haunting me anymore than they already do.
Some people think I have a death wish, that I’m on a mission to end this nightmare I call life, and maybe for a while I thought they were right. A part of me wanted to join Christine, to see her one last time and make right all the wrong I did to her but when I nearly died, my body didn’t succumb to the darkness and fought against it. Jimmy Gold pumped me with enough drugs to kill me two times over but it was Reina, my president’s girlfriend who made me realize I wanted to live and I wanted to live for those dark eyes pinned to me right now.
Leather.
Lace.
Me.
Her.
A temptation so lethal, neither of us would survive.
Maybe I did have a death wish.
I stumbled into the bathroom, locking the door behind me, before I turned around and glanced at myself in the dirty mirror. Staring at my reflection, I wonder why she even looks at me and what someone as innocent and pure as her, sees in a poisonous bastard like me.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a plastic baggie filled with five Xanax pills and slap the bag onto the counter. I divert my eyes back to the mirror and stare back at the piece of shit staring back at me.
“Fuck you,” I growl, hanging onto the feeling of self-loathing, welcoming it and encouraging it to overcome me. I slam my fist against the baggie on the counter, over and over again, crushing the pills until they turn to dust. I empty the dust onto the counter, not giving a fuck how dirty and disgusting the bathroom is because all that matters is my fix.
I’m in the zone, anxious for the high that hopefully will come and wash away my thoughts of her.
She is my savior and my assassin.
The one that keeps me from ending it.
And yet, right now I’m slowly killing myself trying to escape the thoughts of her.