Vengeance of The Fallen (Twisted Legends Collection 1) - Page 41

“Don’t read into shit.” I push to my feet, but I can feel Falcon’s gaze boring into me. When I look up, he’s regarding me with a knowing smirk. “Don’t.”

“I’m not doing anything, brother,” he tells me with a chuckle. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it would be fun if we all three enjoyed the beauty. Can you picture it right now?” he says as he stands, grabbing his crotch. The fucker knows how to get to me. “She could take us both, all three for that matter. Her tight body filled with three cocks making her scream.”

“You’re a dick,” I bite out while shaking my head. But I don’t deny the image in my mind is alluring. It has my own cock twitching with need. She’d be so tight, so warm. It’s been too long since I’ve been inside a woman.

“But you love it,” Falcon throws back as he rounds the desk and follows me out of his office. His warmth against my back as he leans in to whisper in my ear, “I’m horny, shall we play with our toy?”

This has me chuckling. Bastard really knows how to get to me. There are times Falcon can diffuse a situation with his humor. There is a light-hearted spark to him which sparks calm in both me and Hawk. But even so, Falcon can be deadly when he needs to be. It’s what makes him special.

We make our way to the kitchen to find it empty. My stomach sinks the moment I don’t see her, and my gaze flicks to the back door which is still shut. If she did escape, she closed it behind her. But the perimeter alarms haven’t sounded, so she can’t be outside.

“Where is she?”

I shake my head. “Don’t know.” I turn and head for the living room, while Falcon is hot on my trail. I come to a stop when I see standing in front of the large flat screen is our girl. The two words burn a hole right into my gut, but I shake it off because right now is not the time to be considering what it could mean.

The news on screen is the only thing my focus should be on.

My stomach churns with knowing as I listen to the report.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

LUCILLE

I heard them talking and now I’m standing in their living room in shock. I should never have eavesdropped on Falcon and Crow, but when I went to ask them about lunch, I stopped short when I heard my father’s name. He’s going to get out, there is no doubt about it, but the fact he’s going to come for me has unease coiling in my stomach.

I raced into the lounge to turn on the news, and now, as I stare at the screen, my chest tightens with panic.

A jailbreak at the Molehill Penitentiary.

My heart stops. My lungs struggle with air as I stare at the reporter outside the prison. High walls, barbed wire, and cameras in every corner, and yet, three men have escaped. Three. As their names pop up on the screen, the mug I’d been holding falls from my hand.

It crashes to the floor, but I don’t hear it. I only hear my father’s name repeating over and over again. Lionel Mahoney. It’s no longer my name, I changed it legally years ago. But I can’t stop the panic swimming in my eyes which causes my vision to blur.

He’s out.

He’s free.

The photo of him appears on the television makes bile rise up my throat, burning its trail to my mouth where I force myself to swallow back the fear.

I can’t drag my gaze away from the screen. There’s evil in the man. He’s my father, but there has been a sinister darkness which has followed him around like a shadow. Deep down, I think it’s inside me.

I’ve fought for so long to ignore it. To focus on the good I can do in the world, but as I look at my dad, the man who gave me life, I know whatever is broken in him, is shattered in me. My mother did her best. She thought leaving the country would give me a fresh start, a new perspective, and ninety percent of the time, I am fine.

But it’s the other ten percent I can’t account for. It’s what scares me. Perhaps it happened the day he hurt me. I recall the scar running along my spine, the phantom pain tingling as I think about that night. The sleek blade sliced through me caused a sting of agony which tore my attention from the boys for a second.

I lost control and cost the boys their lives.

That day, I saw the devil in the form of my dad.

“Fuck,” Crow’s voice cuts through the darkness swimming in my vision. I can’t look at him because I know what I’ll see—rage. I don’t blame him, I feel it too. Deep down in my core, I realize my life is about to change once more.

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