Page 86 of Degradation (The Brethren Lords #3)

Devin

I carry her into my room. I can’t tell if it is her shame or exhaustion that made her slump against me but in truth, I don’t have time to analyse it right now.

Fucking her, while fun, was not the right move. If her mother was here, if they could find us, then we’re in serious danger. Instead of recognising that fact, I let the adrenaline take over, I let my cock do all the thinking.

Christ, I’ve barely been back inside her a day and already she’s making me lose all rational thoughts.

She sits there, her arms wrapped around herself, and I can’t tell if she’s shell-shocked from me killing Soren, or she’s shell- shocked from the fact she didn’t fight me. That she gave in entirely. That she embraced what she is, that she finally let the mask slip.

“Let’s get you dressed.” I say, grabbing one of my t-shirts and a pair of shorts. They absolutely drown her but right now I have no other options.

“Did you mean that?” She says quietly.

“Mean what?” I reply.

She hesitates, pulling a face. “That you would kill for me.”

“I already have.” I state.

She shudders, dropping her face, like she doesn’t know how to take that fact. “You called me queen.” She says. “And yet…” She trails off, turning her head as if she were looking over my shoulder.

I frown, glancing in the same direction and see Jackson stood, glaring at us both. It’s curious that she heard his approach before me. Apparently, her hearing really is that good then.

“What do you want, Jackson?” I ask.

“Why the fuck are we doing all this?” He says loud enough for a few of the others in the hall to stop and listen.

“Doing what exactly?” I reply.

He looks at Paitlyn then back at me. “We should just leave her here, hand her over, and be done with the whole thing.”

“What…” I begin.

“She’s a part of it. Her mother’s Esau.” He snarls cutting across me.

While behind me, Paitlyn gasps. “What did he say?”

I wave my hand to silence her, then remember she won’t see the action, will she?

A few of the others push into the room. Jackson is ahead of them but there’s a good five on one here. Even Malik is stood, on the peripheries, watching this intently.

“How do you know that?” I murmur back to him. That’s a very dangerous thing to know. A very dangerous thing to say out loud too. My hand flexes, my fingers are more than aware that my gun right now is beside Paitlyn and a little too far out of reach. But my dagger, that’s close enough.

“Like you don’t.” He sneers. “Like you didn’t put it all together back in the Palace…”

“The fuck is he talking about?” Malik growls, striding closer to us. “This bitch is Esau?”

“She’s not. Her mother is.” Jackson repeats.

“I thought the Esau were dead, I thought those bastards were long gone.” Mace says.

“Nah, mate,” Jackson replies. “They’ve been here all along, lurking, pulling tricks, playing us all for fools.”

His hand moves, he tries to be subtle about it, but I see what’s there, beneath his fingers, and I hear the tiny click too.

“So, she was involved.” Cooper cuts in. “It has to be them that killed Gunther.”

Maybe it was. Maybe it was the fairies in his head that did it. Right now, I don’t give a fuck who was behind it. The fucker was mad. I’m glad he’s dead. I’m just pissed that we all got caught up in the aftermath.

“Put it down, Jackson.” I order, keeping my eyes on him.

“Not till you listen to us. You’ve got your head so full of her cunt now, you’re as crazy as Gunther was.”

“The fuck did you say?” I snarl, taking a step forward, losing what little patience I have left.

He lifts his arm, pointing it not at me, but at her, at Paitlyn. “This bitch is long past her expiry date, I’d say…”

Before he can finish that sentence, before anyone else can react, the sound of a gun going off makes us all freeze.

Jackson groans, grabbing his side, but I can see the shot isn’t enough to properly wound.

I pull my dagger, flinging it and as it buries itself in his throat, he falls back, gurgling up blood.

The others stand there, frozen, staring at Jackson like they’ve never seen a dead man before.

I turn my back on them, deciding the immediate threat is over and look at Paitlyn. She still has the gun in her hand, still has it poised with her finger on the trigger like she’s about to take another shot.

I shake my head, smirking. She really is turning into a firecracker. And all it took was a good fucking from me.

Stepping up to her, I take the pistol from her and cup her chin. “Your aim is a little off.” I murmur.

She scowls at that. “I’m sure you can forgive me, considering I don’t have any fucking eyeballs.”

I can’t help it, I throw my head back and laugh. It feels carefree, it feels like something inside me lightens, some part of me eases for the first time in my life.

The atmosphere in the room seems to change and as I turn back, I can see Malik is smirking too. He never liked Jackson that much, so I doubt he gives a fuck what happened to him.

“Anyone else have something to say?” I ask.

A few of them shake their heads.

“Fine, this is how it goes. We pack our shit, we move out, and we continue on with the mission.”

“While you get to fuck her?” Mace says.

I meet his gaze, narrowing my eyes. “I get to fuck her. No one else. That woman there is mine, you have a problem with that, you don’t like it, fucking dare to challenge me, otherwise you can shut the hell up and get on with it.”

I don’t wait for a response. I don’t care to hear what they have to say. I grab my shit, quickly stuffing my things into a backpack. I don’t need most of this crap anyway. I just need my guns, my knife, and that most precious of jars.

With my right hand, I grab Paitlyn’s arm and pull her along after me. The others can finish up here, they can clear everything out and then burn the bunker.

If anyone comes looking for us, they’ll find nothing but a pile of ash.

My bike is parked beside the trucks. I pick Paitlyn up, putting her onto it and she gasps as she realises what she’s now sat on.

I grab the spare helmet and pop it on her head.

It’s a little big but it’ll have to do. I don’t have any leathers that will fit her, so I know I’ll have to be extra careful.

I swing my leg over, putting her between me and the handlebars. It’s not the conventional way of riding but the bike is big enough and this way, she’s shielded. With my foot, I kick the engine to life, and I set off, leaving a trail of dust behind us.