Page 40 of Upon Blooded Lips (Vengeance #1)

TESSA

C ar tires crunch on the gravel, signaling Grange’s and Kendrick’s arrival.

I duck down behind an ancient pickup truck, peeking up over the bed, waiting for them to walk inside.

I can barely contain my excitement as years of anticipation come to fruition.

My fingers dance at my sides, brushing over the knife strapped to my thigh. Come on, come on.

Stars glitter in the midnight-blue sky, and an owl hoots in the branches from the small wooded area across the street. The sound of approaching footsteps sends my heart into flight, and the muscles in my legs tighten with awareness.

Nate and Eric leap out from behind the gates, tackling the officers to the ground.

They’re no match for my demons, who swiftly knock them out and disarm them before dragging them farther into the yard.

I dash out from my hiding space and haul the heavy gates shut, sliding a thick chain through them and locking them with an industrial padlock.

An arm slips around my waist, and I yelp when I’m yanked against a hard chest. “We’re going to fuck you so damn hard after this,” Nate murmurs in my ear before nipping my earlobe. He steps away, slaps my ass, and saunters off, disappearing into the shadows as he heads back to his nest.

“You fucking better!” I shout after him. His dark chuckle rides the air currents back to me, causing goosebumps to break out over my arms. I tap the button on my earpiece. “Eric? Where are you?”

The floodlights switch on, blinding me, and I throw my arm over my eyes, blinking against the bright voltage.

“In the office,” he replies. I jog over to the olive-green single-wide where Jim does his business from and throw open the metal door.

The inside is small but cozy, with a minuscule kitchen, living room turned office, bathroom, and a bedroom with a queen bed.

I find Eric set up at the desk with two laptops open in front of him, one showing various views around the yard, and another to control the light and sound system. “How long do you think they’ll be out?” I ask, leaning against the wall.

Eric peers at the screens before glancing up at me. “Can’t say for certain, but I don’t think it will be long. We didn’t hit them hard.”

“And the heroin?”

“Administered. The dose isn’t high enough to affect them too much, but it’ll leave enough trace in their blood to set up the drug theory. They may be a little clumsy, though.”

As much as I would have liked to slowly—and painfully—torture Ren and Stimpy out there, the fact is, they’re not only in my father’s pockets but the mayor’s.

We can’t just make them disappear, because it would trigger an investigation, so we have to play it smart.

No amount of revenge is worth getting shanked in prison on Mayor Thornwood’s orders.

That’s why we spray painted the Jade Cartel’s symbol across the yard earlier and shot up the place with eight different guns Nate purchased from three separate dealers.

They’ll likely already have bodies attached to them, which will help confuse matters more once the bullets are analyzed.

The trajectories alone will cause the CSIs headaches for weeks.

Making it look like they got caught up in some kind of gang war or a drug deal gone wrong will likely end with the mayor sweeping it under the rug. After all, it’s an election year.

And killing them first ensures Robert won’t have them at his beck and call, allowing us to set our plans for him into motion.

“There’s movement,” Eric says, pointing at the screen.

My lip curls in disgust when Grange rolls over and throws up.

Kendrick takes a minute or two longer before he drags himself into a sitting position and glances around.

Eric pushes a desktop microphone toward me. “Hold the red button down to speak.”

I nod and press it. “Look what we have here.” Kendrick and Grange startle when my voice comes through the speakers surrounding the yard.

They climb to their feet, spinning in a slow circle.

“Two cops on the take. Two cops who turn a blind eye to abuse and neglect. Protect and serve?” A bitter laugh drips from my lips, years of pent-up anger settling over me. “More like abandon and ignore.”

“Yeah, and what are you going to do about it?” Kendrick shouts. He reaches for his gun and freezes when he realizes it’s gone. Grange pats his leg and groans when he discovers the one attached to his ankle is also missing.

My laughter echoes through the junkyard when Eric hits the lights, plunging them into darkness.

Four shots ring out, hitting the cars closest to them.

They yell out, and a malicious smile spreads across my face.

I give Eric a nod, and he switches the lights back on.

He pans the camera closer on their faces, and the terror in their eyes ignites the bloodlust that’s been welling inside me for as long as I can remember.

“Run,” I breathe through the microphone, my voice so cold I barely recognize it. “Run, little piggies, run.”

Nate lets another volley of shots loose into the ground near their feet, kicking up clouds of dirt.

Kendrick and Grange exchange glances before splitting up and running off in separate directions.

Eric cues up a playlist of death metal songs, setting them to play before grabbing something from a bag at his feet.

I raise a brow, and he grins, handing me a machete.

“Go get ’em, angel. Remember, we’re watching over you, and if you want me to join in, just say the word.” He drops a kiss on the tip of my nose and makes a shooing motion with his hand.

I close the door behind me and hop down the metal stairs, swinging the machete.

I scoop up a steel pipe I left beside the trailer earlier before stalking through the aisles, my head on a swivel.

Nate will protect my back from the moron twins, so I walk with a confident bounce to my step, the beat of the music matching the thudding of my heart.

Make it hurt. Make them suffer. Make them bleed , Mirror Girl purrs.

Oh, I plan on it.

The machete drags on the ground, carving lines in the dirt. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” I call, scraping the pipe along a crushed car that might have once been a Range Rover.

The thud of something hitting the ground behind me has me spinning around, my heart in my throat. I chuckle at myself when there’s nothing there, although I’m not surprised they’re too weak to confront me. They always were cowards, hiding behind their guns and shields.

I stop at the end of the row and peek out from behind some sheets of corrugated metal. Still nothing. Okay, now I’m getting bored. “Where are you at, motherfuckers?”

“Grange is about ten feet ahead of you to your left. He’s hiding behind a blue minivan,” Nate says in my ear.

I raise my pipe in acknowledgment and pick up my pace, my hands tightening around my weapons. Adrenaline floods my veins and sharpens my senses. Everything Nate, Eric, and The Duke taught me during my training comes flooding back. Be on alert. Pay attention. Use your senses. Never surrender.

Grange makes it far too easy for me. The music drowns out my approach, so he doesn’t hear me sneak up behind him while peering around the side of the van.

I swing my arm, and the pipe slams into his lower back.

He stumbles forward, tripping over his feet, his arms flapping while trying to remain upright.

“I caught a little piggy,” I say, tilting my head to the side. Grange spins around, his face paling when he spies the weapons in my hands.

“Calm down, Tessa. Think about this. I’m an officer of the law?—”

My laughter cuts him off. “Oh, please. You’re a fucking disgrace to your badge. My father and the mayor can’t help you now.”

The idiot lunges for me, probably hoping I’m still the battered, weak girl I used to be. The one who trusted him to help me. The one who hoped he’d see the bruises and save me from my parents.

That girl died a long time ago.

I raise the machete just before he slams into me, and his mouth drops open in shock when it pierces his side.

I shove him off me, and he stumbles back, the blade sliding out of him with a wet sucking noise.

His hands cover the wound, blood bubbling over his fingers, and he stares down at it like he can’t believe I just did that.

“‘And this little piggy went wee, wee, wee, all the way home.’” The pipe whistles as I charge forward, swinging it through the air. It crashes into his neck, crushing his trachea. He drops like a stone, landing on his back, patting his chest while struggling to draw in air.

“You could have been my hero,” I say, stepping over him so he’s lying between my legs. “My knight in shining armor. Instead, you left me with the monsters.”

His mouth works, but no words come out, his face turning from deep red to purple. I stand dispassionately over him, enjoying every flutter of panic showing in his eyes. He swats at my ankles, a plea for help, but I do nothing. Just like he did nothing when I begged.

His death takes longer than I thought it would.

Several minutes pass while Grange’s blood spills onto the oil-soaked ground, his mouth flopping open and closed like a fish out of water.

And then it’s over. His gaze locks in place, and his hands fall to the ground.

I let out a breath and step over him, feeling almost giddy.

The music shuts off, and I slam the pipe against a pole three times. “Kendrick! Come out, pig, pig, pig!”

Two shots echo off the towers of ruined cars, and I throw my head back and howl like a wolf, my voice rising into the night air. Nate and Eric join me before Nate shoots again, and this time, I make out Kendrick’s shout.

“Two rows over to your left, hiding in the back seat of a black town car,” Eric says.

“No, wait,” Nate counters. Three more shots. “He’s out and coming your way. Want me to turn him around?”

“Nah, I’m ready,” I reply, tossing the pipe and machete to the ground and pulling the Beretta from the holster around my waist. The music resumes, and I stalk up the aisle, stepping onto the main path where I find Kendrick waiting for me.

I’m almost disappointed. I wanted to hunt him down like the rabid dog he is.

I raise my arms, pointing the gun at him. “Hello, Kendrick.”

“Where’s my partner?”

“Bleeding out in the dirt. If you hurry, maybe you can save him,” I lie.

He takes a step toward me. Nate’s bullet lands at his feet, and he jumps back with a curse. He glares at me, his lip curling. “You always were a whiny little cunt. No wonder your parents hate you so much. If you were my kid, I’d have fucking drowned you a long time ago.”

Oh, no. Insults. We’re devastated.

“Oh, Presley did. Quite often, in fact. She never had the balls to go all the way, though.”

He’s going to charge.

My legs lock in place, and I tighten my grip on the gun.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t have any children.

You would have been an even bigger disappointment than you already are.

” I keep my eyes locked on Kendrick but give my head a tiny shake, hoping Nate understands not to interfere. I’ve got to do this myself.

“Bitch,” Kendrick snarls. He leaps forward, hand outstretched to take my gun from me. I don’t move. One breath in. One breath out.

Wait. Wait … Now.

He’s mere inches away when I squeeze the trigger. The bullet slams into his shoulder, knocking him back. He staggers but regains his footing, clamping a hand over the bloody hole. “I’m going to fucking kill you and enjoy every second of it. Fuck the reward money.”

He comes at me again, moving faster than he should with an injury and the heroin running through his system.

One hand wraps around the barrel while the other forms a fist and flies toward my face.

I duck and kick out at him, catching him in the knee.

He lets out an “ Oomph ” but doesn’t release his grip on the gun.

Fire.

I obey, and Kendrick lets out a yelp and jumps back, shaking his hand.

The bullet goes wide, disappearing into the night.

I take his momentary distraction to draw out my knife and throw it at his face.

It lodges in his left eye, and he freezes for a moment before dropping to his knees and collapsing on the ground.

I squat beside him, relishing the tears sliding from his good eye.

It’s not enough. I can do better. Smiling prettily, I grab the hilt and twist it, forcing a scream from him while shredding his eyeball in a gooey slop, careful not to go too deep.

I don’t want to penetrate his brain yet. He needs to suffer.

He rears up, head-butting me while kicking out with one leg, catching me on the hip.

I trip over his body and crash into the dirt, landing on my side with Nate’s roar ringing in my ear.

Ouch. Kendrick hauls himself to his feet, stumbling toward me, looking like something out of a horror movie with my knife lodged in his eye socket and blood running down his shoulder and face.

But in the bid to save his life, he forgot about the gun still gripped in my hand, hidden from his view behind my back.

I allow him to approach, his hands outstretched like he wants nothing more than to choke the life out of me.

My arm whips out, the gun steady as I shoot.

The bullet pierces his stomach, and he shrieks, stumbling backward into a pile of scrap.

His body goes completely still, and I shake my head and jump to my feet.

No, no, no.

His mangled eye oozes blood and gore while his good one stares sightlessly at the starlit sky. My teeth clench, anger boiling in my blood. It was over too quickly. He was supposed to suffer.

“Angel.”

I ignore Eric’s voice in my ear and turn Kendrick’s body over, my eyes narrowing at the rusted metal piercing the back of his skull. I didn’t even kill the bastard. He impaled himself on a fucking hook.

My head falls back, and I close my eyes, my entire body trembling with the vestiges of adrenaline.

Fuck you, Kendrick. Fuck you all the way to hell.