Wretched (Never After Series)(39)

Blackness creeps into the edges of my vision. Spinning back around, I walk up to Cillian, who is standing now, dabbing a paper towel to the bleeding wound on his head.

“Are you cutting my drugs with rat poison, Cillian?”

He scoffs, glaring down at me. “If you don’t know what I’m doing, then maybe you aren’t as important as you think.”

My chest twists violently and I react before I can stop myself, aiming my gun at his knee and pulling the trigger. The sound is muted from the silencer, but the woman screams, and Cillian goes down fast, his hands flying to his leg. “Jesus fuck, you crazy bitch!” he screeches.

Before I can react, Brayden is there, his fist flying into Cillian’s face, before he drags him up by his shirt. “Watch your mouth.”

I grin at him, warmth spreading through me and dousing the anger, just slightly. It’s cute he’s defending my honor, even though he’s called me worse himself.

“I’m only doing what I’m fucking told to do,” Cillian cries.

“By who?” I tilt my head.

He glares, tears tracking down his face as blood seeps through his fingers. “Fuck you, why would I tell you shit? So they can kill me when I do?”

“I’ll kill you now if you don’t,” I reply.

Silence.

Cracking my neck, I grin and walk into the kitchen, flinging open his drawers until I find a large kitchen knife. This will do.

Silently, I walk up to the woman who’s shaking in the chair at the table and I smile softly. “Sorry.”

I raise my gun and shoot her in the head. She slumps over the table, red pooling beneath her and spreading over the product they’ve already ruined.

Brayden’s mouth is parted as he takes in the scene, his eyes like stone.

Sauntering back toward him, I hand him my gun. “Hold this for me, pup, won’t you?”

His eyes narrow at the nickname, but he does as I ask, his gaze flickering between the knife, the dead girl, and then back again, before he finally raises the weapon, keeping it aimed on the back of Cillian’s head.

I step in close, using the edge of the blade to tip up Cillian’s face. “I’m not sure you understood me before, so let me be clear. This isn’t a negotiation, and despite what you may think, I am your judge, jury, and executioner. Which means you answer to me.” I slide the blade in farther, just beneath his jaw, a sick sense of satisfaction melting through me when it meets resistance, then sinks into his skin, blood starting to drip on the metal.

He whines, and the sound sends shivers down my spine.

“What made you think it was okay to cut my drugs?”

“He told me to,” he stutters.

“Who? Is it Benny telling you to do this? Your cousin?” I purr. “Tell me and this will all be over.”

He presses his lips together.

Sighing, I shake my head, snapping back my hand and withdrawing the blade from under his jaw.

“Fine,” I say, walking over to the table and grabbing one of the remade bags before making my way back again.

My heels click on the wood floor as I move toward him and nod at Brayden. “Bend him back for me, pup.”

Brayden’s jaw clenches and he glares at me. My heart starts to pound in my ears when I think he isn’t going to listen, that maybe he can’t handle what’s happened. But then, slowly, he nods and reaches down, wrenching Cillian’s matted blond hair until his sliced up neck is exposed.

“You’re not putting up much of a fight, Cillian,” I tsk, leaning over him with one of the baggies. I cut it open with the edge of the knife. “It’s almost a disappointment.”

Cillian presses his lips together and my fingers surge forward, digging into his chin and prying them open, his flesh getting stuck under my nails. I dip the bag of cut heroin into his mouth, the powder filling up the empty cavern while he chokes on it and spits. I make sure to angle my face away, not wanting any of it to accidentally enter my nostrils.

I grip his cheeks tight, dropping the bag and bringing the flat of the knife up to cover his mouth. “Swallow.”

Tears track down his face and he jolts against Brayden’s grip. Brayden squeezes his eyes shut but holds him in place.

Finally, Cillian’s throat bobs as he eats the dry powder.

“Think that was enough to make you feel good, baby?” I purr, gliding the blade down until it rests against his jugular.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” I whisper. “Who?”

“Liam. He want… wanted to start putting some cash aside. So we could get away from this shit. From all of you fucking Westerly assholes.”

My hand twitches on his back and he jerks forward, catching me off guard. My knife slides into his throat, blood spurting, the warm liquid spraying my skin. His eyes roll back in his head before his body weight sags, the soul leaving his body.

I stare in shock for long moments, the silence around us thick and heavy. Then I step back and sigh, looking at the mess, my hands stained in red. “Well, this is unfortunate.”

Brayden drops Cillian’s body and stands, his eyes empty as he stares at me like he’s never seen me before.

My stomach twists but I push the odd feeling away. It’s not a new thing for people to not like what they see and having him realize that I’m not the girl he created in his head is a good thing.