Heathens (Depraved Sinners 2) - Page 16

She’s a fucking spitfire.

A soft groan flows through the room and both mine and Roman’s heads snap up to our brother. Marcus is a fucking fighter and I’ll be damned if he allowed a fucking bullet to take him down like that. Fuck, I would have killed him myself, and damn it, I’d have enjoyed it too.

My gaze shoots to Roman who sits across the room in complete silence. He’s been like that ever since Shayne first ran. She got further under his skin than he would ever admit, and he’s fucking pissed that he allowed it to happen. Roman has always been the protector, the one who does the shit he doesn’t think Marcus and I are strong enough to handle. He’s our big fucking brother, but he has the heaviest heart I’ve ever seen. He shoulders all the bullshit, which is exactly why he was the one to go after her. He didn’t think I could handle it, didn’t think I should have to. Hell, he already knows what it’s like to lose the woman he was in love with and he didn’t want to see that happen to me, but fuck, I’m far from in love with that little double-crosser.

Our father's been using our little playground for his own games lately, and though his men took our home by storm to find one of their missing prisoners, our father will hold us personally responsible if Marcus were to die. Roman keeps his stare on Marcus, knowing all hell will rain down over us the moment our brother takes his last breath. Though our father would need time to replenish his security after sending a wave of jackasses here. Anyone would think that asshole would have learned his lesson by now, but the fucker ain’t that bright.

My father will get what’s coming for him, and when he does … fuck, it’s going to be a beautiful thing, something that we will celebrate for years to come.

Marcus’ eyes slowly open and the relief that pounds through my veins is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I sit up straighter as Roman does the same, leaning forward to get closer to our most fucked-in-the-head, beloved brother.

“Marc?” Roman mutters, his face ashen, the terror in his eyes shining through like two beacons of light in the darkest storm, finally allowing himself to be vulnerable to his emotions.

Marcus’ hand falls to his chest, and as the pain registers, his face twists into a cruel cringe. “What the fuck?” he mutters, letting out a deep breath and attempting to sit up, groans and grunts coming out with his every move.

“Don’t be a fucking hero,” I rush out, watching as he settles back onto his bed, not fucking happy about it either. “You’re gonna tear your stitches.”

Marc shoots a pissed-off glare at me, but fuck, it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. “Levi’s right,” Roman says. “You need to stay put for a few days, let your wounds heal. The bullet nearly nicked your heart. We nearly lost you, man.”

Marc grunts, scrunching his face as his hand rubs over his chest, not capable of letting it be. He glances down, taking in the thick bandage across his chest before glancing up at the drip connected to his wrist. He mutters to himself and relentlessly tears the drip right out before throwing it away. “Where the fuck is she?” he says, getting straight to business.

“Don’t you worry about her, she’s not going anywhere,” Roman says. “We’re not going to kill her just yet. We thought you’d like to do the honor. But I swear, man, if you take too long to make it happen, I can’t guarantee that I won’t beat you to it.”

A strange pull tears at my chest at how effortlessly he talks about taking Shayne’s life, but I keep my mouth shut. Roman wouldn’t like to hear me having second thoughts. After all, DeAngelis men don’t change their minds. We make a conclusion and we stick to it, and Shayne knows what’s up. She knew the consequences of what would happen if she pulled that trigger, and she did it anyway. Fuck my heart and the guilt darkening it, we need to see this through.

“Get fucked,” Marc mutters, rolling his eyes as he turns his attention back to me. “Who the fuck is she? It was too dark. I didn’t get a good look under her hood.”

My back straightens and I shoot my gaze across to Roman as my heart drums a little faster in my chest. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I question as Roman’s face turns a sickly shade of white. “What hood? Shayne was the one who shot you.”

“Shayne?” Marc says, his jaw clenching as Roman slowly stands. “Shayne was trying to stop her. The bitch in the fucking black hood came in and shot me. If it weren’t for Shayne, she would have got a clear shot between my fucking eyes. Tell me you didn’t let that bitch get away?”

Tags: Sheridan Anne Depraved Sinners Romance
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