Page 180 of Revenge Saints

I step in.

And the world narrows.

It smells like iron, sweat, and rot. My boots scuff over packed dirt and leaves. The darkness adjusts, and then, I see him.

Roman.

Slumped against the cave wall, legs stretched out, arms chained above his head, his body limp like a fucking corpse. His face is sunken and pale, and his lips are cracked. His shirt is soaked with sweat and something darker.

But those eyes, they still fucking gleam.

He lifts his head with effort. Smirks.

“Told you,” he croaks. “Should’ve put a bullet in me when you had the chance.”

My vision pulses red.

For a second, I don’t move. I just stare. My chest is hollow. Cold. The memory of Aspen crying, of me bleeding.

My brothers standing over graves that didn’t have to be dug.

The trap. The betrayals. Bryn.

“You’re alive,” I say quietly.

Dante steps in behind me. “Surprise.”

I walk forward.

Roman flinches.

I crouch down in front of him. I don’t speak. I just look at him. Let him feel every ounce of what’s still burning in me. My hands are still healing. My side is still tight. But my heart? Cold as a fucking stone.

“You know,” I murmur, “I didn’t come here to kill you.”

He chuckles. “Getting soft?”

“No.” I tilt my head. “Just waiting.”

His eyes narrow.

I lean in.

“You see… I’m going to heal. I’m going to take my time. I’m going to bury my cock so deep inside my girl, the sound of her moans will chase away the memory of your name. And when my strength is all the way back, when my body’s whole again,” I stand tall, casting a shadow over him. “I’ll come back. And then I’ll end you.”

His throat bobs. Sweat drips from his hairline.

“Because killing you right now?” I smile. “Would be too fucking merciful.”

I turn to the guys. “He doesn’t get to die today.”

But Roman cuts through the silence.

“You want to know why I did it?”

I stop. Turn.

“I know why. You wanted our base.” I snarl sarcastically. “No, you needed it. To heal from whatever the fuck is eating you alive.”