Page 78 of Wicked Promises
I snap my fist out, connecting with his nose. All of my senses come to life, exploding through me. It’s like a fight on the ice, the duty of enforcing good behavior during the game. There are no free shots. If it’s not a clean hit, you pay the price.
Blood gushes from his nose, and he brings his hands up to his face.
But he doesn’t say anything. Hardly protests.
“Cut him loose,” I order.
Liam frowns.
“Cut. Him.Loose.”
Eli pulls out his knife and cuts through the tape on his ankles, then his wrists. It’s painfully similar to how we found Margo.
Matt shakes out his arms and stands quickly, spinning in a circle.
“Eyes on me, Bonner,” I growl. “You hit me, you get to walk out of here. Right now.”
His eyebrow goes up. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch.”
Liam steps forward. “What are you?—?”
“Hit me, Bonner,” I goad. “You took Margo, and I think you did it to get back at me for something. Jealousy?”
“Jealous of you?” he scoffs. “No.”
He stands still for a moment, then springs toward me. He stumbles, wincing in pain, and I easily dodge him.
He stumbles to a stop and spins around. “Your whole family is fucking crazy.”
I shrug. He’s right, there’s no point denying it. Although, I’m not sure when he would’ve formed that opinion.
He charges again, his fist barely missing my cheek as I twist away. I stick out my foot, and he catches on it, sprawling out.
My blood is pumping. Theo was right—best fucking Christmas present ever. Revenge is a dirty thing, like a stink that you can’t wash off. But this isn’t revenge.
This is justice.
Eli pulls Matt up, slapping his cheek. “You still with us, Bonney?”
He shoves Eli away and spins back toward me. The blood from his nose has stained his front teeth red. I’m itching to hit him again—just like I’m itching for him to hit me.
When he comes back around, I get in two quick punches to his torso, then back away. If I get him flat on his back, I know I won’t be able to stop.
Matt yells. It shatters the night.
Liam grabs him from behind and slaps a hand over his mouth. In his other hand is a knife, and he raises it to Matt’s neck. “What did we say, huh? You want to die tonight?”
Eli shifts.
Yeah, we didn’t sign up for murder.
“You talk or you get a hit in,” I tell Matt in an even voice. “That’s the only way you’re getting out of here on your own two feet.”
Theo grins, making a show of looking Matt up and down.
Matt swallows. “I’m dead if I talk, so… there goes that option.”