Wrath Read Book Online L.P. Lovell, Stevie J. Cole (Wrong #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: , Series: Wrong Series by L.P. Lovell
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
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"I don't know."

"I don't like being lied to," I say as I shove him away from me. He falls back against the stairs. I nod and exhale as my gaze drifts over to the hand he's holding over the bullet hole. I snatch his wrist and throw his hand from his shoulder. Without hesitation, I jam my finger into the ripped flesh, digging around in the warm wound. The man screams and jerks in pain. I know this shit hurts like a motherfucker. I glare at him as I shove my finger deeper into the hole, watching him squirm. I push him to the floor. "Where?" I shout.

He doesn't say a damn word; he's just sitting in the floor panting through the pain.

I motion at Marney. "Tie him up."

Marney mumbles to himself as he unwinds the rope that's looped around his shoulder. He crosses the man's arms behind his back, quickly binding his wrists together. I glance around the house and spot a dying fire in the fireplace, and I motion toward the hearth. "Just set him over there."

I walk past them and grab the iron poker from the tool rack. Marney's just sat him in a chair, and I take a running start, bringing the poker back behind my head like a baseball bat and swinging. The heavy metal meets his knees with a loud crack. The man screeches in pain and buckles over. He sounds like a wild animal caught in a bear trap.

"Now," I wipe the sweat from my forehead, cocking a brow as I point the end of the poker at him, "You fucking tell me where he is."

I don't even know if he heard me over his continued howling. I place my hand on the handle of my gun, my finger twitching over the trigger. I'd just as soon put a bullet in his skull than deal with this shit, but I can't. I close my eyes, reminding myself of why I need to keep it together. Caleb, he has Caleb and Tor... My blood boils, my pulse accelerates, and the last piece of sanity I have been clinging to is consumed by the hate festering inside me.

"I will kill every last piece of shit that tries to stand between he and I. I'll go after your fucking family if I have to."

His bloodshot eyes rise to meet mine.

"Tell me!" I yell as every muscle in my body tightens, but he remains silent. He’s trained not to give out information, but damn it, I will get what I want from him. Every-fucking-one has a breaking point, and I will find his.

I place the end of the poker into the dimming flames, watching as the pointed tip brightens to a glowing red. I pull it from the fire and twist it, sadistically staring at the burning tip as I slowly push it in his face. His gaze trains on the end of the poker, his brow beading with sweat as he tries to scoot away from me.

"Hold him still!" I order Marney, and he grabs him by the shoulders.

Marney leans in by his ear. "He's a sick fuck. I promise the devil is kinder than this one. Wanna answer him?"

Each moment he stalls is a moment he takes from me, from Tor and Caleb. I ram the sharp, hot end into his eye. The sound of singing flesh sizzles through the air. The thick aroma of burning skin creeps into my nostrils; I can practically taste the charred flesh in the back of my throat. I never have in my life heard cries and howls like this man is letting out. I yank the poker back and toss it to the floor. His mutilated eye dangles from the optic nerve, swinging across his face, and, I won't lie, that shit makes my stomach turn.

"Tell me..." I trail off because the fucker is screaming so loud I can barely hear my own fucking voice. I grab him by the throat and squeeze. "Shut the fuck up!" His screams become garbled as I choke him. He's thrashing around, and now I'm just tired of it. "I am your own fucking personal apocalypse right now." My fist lands against his face, the force of the blow causing the chair to fall over. I smack him again. His face is covered in blood and so is my fist.

"You're gonna kill me," he groans. I can see him straining, trying to resist the urge to cry from the pain. "Even if I tell you where he is, you won't find Joe unless he wants you to," he says through gritted teeth.

"Oh, I will find him. I can assure you of that." I grab his bound wrists and drag him toward the fireplace. I slam him face down onto the hearth and kick the screen away from the opening. Holding him by his wrists, I press my weight into his back and lean over him. I bring my face next to his and arch a brow, grinning as I say, "You have no idea what I'm capable of."



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