Page 8 of Volatile King (The Kings of Wayward Academy #6)

“Then ya pulled all the teeth from me mouth. Every…last…one. I begged ya to stop. I cried and pleaded with ya. Said I’d do better and that I’d learn to be a man. Well…ya didn’t stop then, and I’m not gonna stop now. So, let’s see if yer able to be a man and not scream. I doubt ya last one.”

Pulling teeth was harder than you’d think, but nothing was stopping me.

The agonizing wail that filled the room echoed along the walls like a sweet lullaby. I’d never heard anything so wonderful. Not because I was causing pain, but because of who was screaming.

I could still feel the pliers and taste the metal in my mouth.

I’d choked on blood and felt the sharp pain as he’d twisted each one from my head until I had none left.

I remembered all too well how my mother cried and begged him to stop.

How he’d hit her and thrown her to the ground when she tried to intervene.

How I had mushy peas and mashed potatos for months afterward.

As the tooth finally pulled free, I held it up in front of his face and then tossed it away with a smile.

“One,” I said, watching the tears run down his face. They were my hydration as I wiped the perspiration from my brow. “Are ya feelin’ like a man?” He just glared at me. “Let’s move on to number two, shall we?”

“No matter what ya do to me, yer still gonna be the scared little boy cryin’ in the closet. Ya can’t torture that part out of you. I’ll always be in yer head, whisperin’ in yer ears.”

With a growl, I grabbed his face and started again. By the time I removed the fifth one, Owen had passed out, and I was soaked with sweat.

Stumbling back, I stared at the bloodied tooth still locked between the bite of the pliers and realized that it didn’t matter what I did…he was right. He was in my head. I couldn’t erase the trauma any more than I could travel back in time and stop it from happening.

With a roar, I tossed the pliers across the room.

Fucker didn’t get to pass out. I swiped the sniffing salts off the nearby tray and held them under his nose.

He jerked, and his eyes snapped open. Owen chuckled.

Of course, he fucking chuckled, sick prick.

I glared at him as he smiled, showing off the dark gaps and blood running down his chin.

The rage didn’t just burn…it consumed.

Fueled by every ghost of my past, it tore through me like wildfire. Memories flickered like snapshots in a frayed photo album, pages flipped by unseen hands, forcing me to relive the moments that carved me into what I was now.

The darkness was always there, coiling around my ankles like a serpent, waiting to pull me under. I couldn’t deny it anymore.

I was Echo…and Echo was me.

The fear that gripped my throat wasn’t just about what I’d done before today. It was the gnawing question of whether I could keep that part of me caged. If it broke free, would I become the very monster I feared?

Grabbing the knife still stuck in his leg, I stared into his dead shark-like eyes as I pulled it free. My gaze dropped to the McCoy crest tattooed over his heart.

“Ya don’t deserve to wear this name,” I said, cutting into the skin and peeling it away from the muscle.

“Yer no better than me,” he screamed.

I held up the bloody flesh bearing the McCoy name and shook my head.

“I’ll never be like you.”

His head fell back as he laughed.

“That be where yer wrong, boy. Ya may not be mine by blood, but yer still a McCoy. So, go ahead, kill me if ya want, but ya can’t hide from what runs through yer veins. And that means one thing…you’ll rot from the inside, just like me.”

The cackling laugh that came from him seemed inhuman, and a cold dread settled in my stomach.

“You should see yer face! Yer just like me…yer just like me…yer never gonna be?—”

Bang!

A gun went off, and I jerked back as Owen fell silent. In the middle of his forehead was a small bullet hole.

The sound of a lone pair of boots approached, but I couldn’t look away from the face that had haunted me day and night.

Nash stepped up beside me and grabbed my shoulder.

“I couldn’t listen to that fucking crap any longer.”

“Aye,” I said, my voice low. “I thought ya left.”

“I’d never leave you alone,” Nash said.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He wasn’t looking at me. Nash was focused on Owen.

“You don’t believe any of that, do you?” I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t. “Look at me.” Turning my head, I met Nash’s stare.

“You’re nothing like him, and blood doesn’t make the man.

” He tapped me in the chest with his gun.

“If it did, then we were all born destined to repeat the sins of our fathers. I don’t believe that. We choose our destiny.”

I shook my head and looked down. Part of me knew he was right, but I’d enjoyed torturing the man that I’d called Father my whole life.

“Aye, maybe.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

Lifting my head, I glared at Nash.

“Even if what he said was true, your mom’s blood runs through you as well.

She was a good person, a loving person, in the face of all the things your father did to her.

He was right about that. You are more like your mother, but it’s not the insult he wants you to believe.

It’s what makes you strong, a great friend, and our brother.

Fuck, it’s even what lets you love Ren so fiercely, so no, it’s not an insult. ”

I glanced over to see Theo and Liam by the door.

The corner of my lip lifted, and I grabbed Nash to pull him into a hug. We stood there, each of us expressing the things we’d survived at the hands of evil men without speaking a word.

Pulling back, I smirked and tapped him in the chest. “Yer right, and I love ya, but I’m still feckin pissed off.”

Nash laughed and wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we headed for the door. I paused and looked back at the man who didn’t know what it meant to be family, one final time.

3 :33 AM

I’d needed some time to process and gotten it as the four of us cleaned up the mess and disposed of Owen’s body.

By the time we were done, there was only one thing I wanted.

I’d quickly showered and put on a fresh set of clothes from a stash Nash had at the club for emergency purposes and drove back to the hospital.

It was 3:33 a.m. when I pulled in and parked. I watched the clock until it finally flicked over to a four before getting out. Triple threes were a bad omen, and I wasn’t taking any chances.

Pushing open the door to Ren’s room, I spotted Blake asleep in the chair beside her bed, but I needed to hold my Snowflake. Stripping my boots, I climbed up, smiling as Ren leaned into me in her sleep.

“I did it,” I whispered. “He can’t hurt us anymore. I made him pay for what he did to you.” Closing my eyes, silent tears finally fell as I kissed her head. “I love ya, Snowflake. I’m so sorry, I didn’t do it sooner. So, so sorry.”