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A man like that should never have had children. He didn’t punish to discipline. He punished because he enjoyed inflicting pain and suffering.
Headshot here. Headshot there. Dickshot then headshot because his whiny cries annoyed the fuck out of me.
I’d rather fucking die.
My parents chucked me into therapy, where they told me I had the personality traits of a psychopath. A little extreme to tell a ten-year-old, but whatever.
“Oh, I’m sorry, am I annoying you?” Her head rolled to the side lazily, and she flashed me a big, beaming smile. “Good.” Yep. Definitely torture.
Autumn crossed her legs elegantly like a well-mannered woman from the upper class, tilted her head to the side and said, “Woof, woof.” A chuffing laugh burst out of me before I even knew what was happening. My eyes widened in shock. What. The. Fuck?
Begrudgingly, I had to give Autumn my respect. Despite being an annoying, chatty, massive pain in the ass, I had to give respect where respect was due.
Unwanted sexual advances were one of my triggers. I’d prefer the bite of a blade than to ever experience that again.
“Odnazhdy ya pererezhu tebe gorlo i iskupayus’ v tvoyey krov,” he spat harshly before spinning around, giving me his back, effectively ending our conversation. A smirk curled my lips. Autumn: 1 Dimitri: 0
I grasped a chicken drumstick and smacked Dimitri across the face with it. It made this very satisfying splat sound, thanks to all the gravy. His eyes bulged wide in shock, mouth dropping open as if he couldn’t believe I had the audacity to slap him in the face with a piece of chicken.
Fuckity, fuck, fuck. That hurt.
Fed up and full of anger, I unlocked that dark, evil side of me. The one that felt nothing. No pain. No remorse. No mercy. The Butcher.
“Do you know I’m going to shove my foot so far down your throat that it’s going to pop out your ass if you don’t start fucking talking?”
What kind of Hunger Games May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favour bullshit did I fall into?
“Ahh, exactly where a man belongs, on his knees.”
“I am not stuck-up, nor am I snobbish.” “Right, and I don’t like to have my hair pulled and my ass spanked during sex,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes and looking out into the room.
But Autumn said nothing like that, surprising me for the umpteenth time when she softly murmured, “What does love feel like?”
So we had a few things in common. So we’d connected. So we’d shared some kind of moment together. It didn’t mean fuck all. She still pissed me off just by breathing.
Autumn smiled. She fucking smiled. Why had she smiled at him? He’d barely fucking said anything.
I had to remember how to breathe. What the fuck was going on with me? How was she affecting me that way? I didn’t understand it. Didn’t understand this powerful pull I had to look at her fucking lips again.
Instead, I looked up at Dimitri and couldn’t help but smile brightly at the look of complete and utter shock on his face.
“Or maybe I should call you Daddy Dimitri.”
Ohhh, karma is good.
We wrestled, his stupid face an inch from mine, his yellow teeth bared in a growl. Yuck. “How often do you brush your teeth, dude?” I asked, disgusted.
Reaching back, my fingers curled around the hilt of a blade. Argh, fuck. One, two— “Son of a bitch!” I cursed, yanking out the knife. “Fucking cunt.”
“Here. Have your fucking knife back.” I threw it right at him. His head snapped back when it sunk deep into his forehead. He thumped to the ground, sand wafting into the air around his now-dead body.
Oh, it’s on, motherfucker.
But my brother wasn’t a smart man. Never had been.
Burn, motherfucker, burn.
I’d spoken to him once or twice. The conversation left much to be desired. He had the personality of a walnut.
“Yes.” His eyes cut to me. “A dream of a sexual nature.” Oh, that fucking asshole.
I stared after her, blinking rapidly. “Oh, she’s motherfucking looney tunes.”
A dark, evil smirk curled on my lips. “I don’t kill people who hurt my children, Talon. I take them home.”
My brother was already moving. He picked up Jonas’ container, marched to the double doors and hurled the food outside.
watching as Nikolai took things one step further by throwing Jonas out next.
How the hell did I fuck things up so badly?! I wanted to bloody shoot myself.
The cold and hard Bratva Butcher just admitted he missed me? Hell must have frozen over.
What the fuck was going on? Who was this man? Because he certainly wasn’t the Dimitri I knew. First, he admitted point-blank that he missed me. Then, he got down on his fucking knees. And finally, he said he was sorry. Dimitri Volkov. Said he was sorry. S-O-R-R-Y.
