Page 114 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

In one fluid motion, he pulls a gun from his waistband and shoves the barrel into my mouth. The cold metal scrapes against my teeth, and I gag reflexively.

“I should kill you right fucking now,” he growls, his finger twitching on the trigger. “An eye for an eye, right? You got one of my men killed. Seems only fair I return the favor.”

I can’t speak, can’t move. The taste of gun oil fills my mouth, and I fight the urge to vomit.

“But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?” Harlan continues, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “Too quick. And you? You deserve to suffer.”

He pulls the gun out of my mouth, and I gasp for air, coughing and sputtering.

Harlan’s men laugh and jeer as he continues to taunt me. “What’s the matter, Quinn? Cat got your tongue?” one of the Young Killers calls out.

Another chimes in, “Maybe she’s finally realized she’s not as tough as she thinks she is.”

I stare straight ahead, my jaw clenched tight. I won’t give these bastards an inch.

Harlan’s grin widens, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “You know what? I think it’s time we teach that husband of yours a lesson. Show him what happens when you fuck with the wrong people.”

One of his men pulls out a phone, holding it up to record. The red light blinks on, signaling that we’re live.

Harlan’s grin turns cruel as he shoves the gun barrel back into my mouth, forcing it deeper this time. I gag involuntarily, my eyes watering as I struggle not to stay completely still.

The room erupts in laughter.

“Looks like she needs some practice,” one of them jeers.

Another chimes in, “Yeah, bitch. You’re gonna have to learn to deep throat better than that if you want to survive around here.”

The taste of metal fills my mouth as Harlan pushes the gun even farther down my throat.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he taunts. “Show us what that pretty mouth can do.”

Harlan grabs a fistful of my hair with his free hand, yanking my head back and baring my throat. My eyes water as pain shoots down my neck, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry out.

Not that I could say much with my lips still locked around the barrel of his fucking gun.

“Hey, Nico,” he calls out, his voice cheerfully cruel. “Just wanted to let you know we’ve got your pretty little wifey here.”

His grip tightens, and I bite back a hiss of pain.

“She won’t be looking so pretty by the time we’re done with her though,” he continues, leaning in close until his lips almost brush my ear. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before crossing us.”

Harlan’s men laugh and catcall, their voices ringing out in the confined space. Someone whistles, and another adds, “Yeah, Nico, she’s gonna be a real mess by the time we pass her back to you.”

I close my eyes, my stomach churning. I can feel their eyes on me, like I’m some kind of prey they’re all eager to sink their teeth into.

Harlan’s grip on my hair loosens slightly, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, I can feel him trailing down my neck, pausing to brush his thumb along my collarbone before continuing downward.

“You know, it’s been a long time since I got to play with such a fine piece of ass,” he purrs, his lips curving into a sick grin. “I can’t wait to hear you beg for more.”

I fight to keep my breathing steady as Harlan’s hand continues to roam. My stomach churns, bile rising in my throat. Memories flood back, unbidden and unwelcome. The Bullets’ hideout. Rough hands. Pain. Fear.

No. I can’t let myself go there. Not now.

I force the panic down, burying it deep. I can’t afford to spiral. Not with these fuckers watching my every move, waiting for any sign of weakness.

Harlan’s voice drones on, still taunting Nico through the camera. “You should see her face right now, man. She’s trying so hard to be brave. It’s almost cute.”

His fingers trail along my jaw, and I have to fight not to flinch away. “But we both know what’s gonna happen, don’t we? By the time we’re done, she’ll be begging us to stop. Or maybe begging us to keep going, hm?”

I shake my head, mustering every ounce of defiance I have left. I meet Harlan’s gaze and force my lips into a sneer, praying it masks the fear churning in my gut.

He yanks the gun from my mouth, and I gasp for air, my throat raw.

“If you’re trying to send a message to the Princes,” I rasp, my voice hoarse but steady enough to come through loud and clear on their little recording, “you picked the wrong fucking tactic.”

Harlan’s eyes narrow. “Oh yeah? And why is that, sweetheart?”

“You really think Nico gives a shit what happens to me? That he’ll come running to my rescue?” I shake my head. “You don’t know him very well, do you?”

“What do you mean?”

I force a bitter laugh, ignoring the way it makes my throat and my bruised ribs ache.

“You idiots really think Nico and I are some kind of love story? That’s fucking hilarious.

” Pain shoots through my scalp as Harlan’s grip on my hair tightens, but I press on.

“Our marriage is nothing but a business arrangement. A way to keep the peace between my crew and his. There’s no love lost between us. ”

I can see the doubt creeping into Harlan’s eyes, so I keep going, even though the words feel like twisting a knife into some deep part of myself that I can’t even quite acknowledge.

“Hell,” I add with a bitter laugh, “half the time Nico can barely stand to be in the same room as me. You think he’s gonna come charging in here to save me?

Dream on.” I shake my head, letting a sneer curl my lips.

“Face it, assholes. You picked the wrong hostage if you’re trying to get to Nico.

He doesn’t give a shit what happens to me. Neither do his seconds.”

Harlan releases my hair with a sharp jerk, then backhands me hard across the face. The taste of blood fills my mouth, but I’m still fucking smiling.

“Bullshit,” he snarls. “You expect me to believe that?”

I spit blood onto the floor at his feet. “Believe what you want. But killing me won’t hit them as hard as you think. I’m just a convenience to them. A tool.”

His eyes narrow as he studies my face, searching for any sign that I’m lying. I meet his gaze steadily, forcing myself to look bored and unafraid.

After a long moment, he whirls around to face the guy holding the phone. “Turn that shit off,” he snaps. “And send what we’ve got to Nico. Now.”

Harlan leans over me again. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Trying to play mind games with me.”

“It’s not a game. It’s the truth.”

But it does feel good to fuck with his head a little. That part is just for me.

“Let’s say you’re right,” he shrugs. “Let’s say Nico doesn’t give a shit about you. You know what that means?”

I stay silent, sensing I’ve probably already pushed my luck a little too far.

His lips curl into a cruel smile.

“It means you’ll die knowing no one loves you. No one’s coming to save you. You’re all alone.” He reaches out, then trails his hand down my neck, coming to rest on my collarbone. “How’s that feel, huh? Knowing you’re nothing but a convenience? A tool?”

I force myself to maintain eye contact, even as his touch makes my skin crawl. “Better than being some pathetic lackey who can’t think for himself,” I spit back.

His hand tightens around my throat, not enough to cut off my air completely, but enough to make breathing difficult.

“Watch your mouth, bitch,” he growls, his fingers digging into the side of my neck. He drops his head until his face is inches from me, his breath gusting over my face as his voice drops low. “You can act tough all you want, little girl. But I’ll enjoy making you scream.”