DECEIT (B723) Hazel Grace (best free ebook reader for android .txt) 📖

back than did what he did.

Now I have to not only deal with Emmy’s death and deception but murdering my brother.

Who the fuck knew that B723 would have so much drama within it?

“You can’t do it,” Mills emits, eyeing my brown leather bag. “You can’t leave those kids without a parent.”

“They’ll be fine. Marty did it.”

“Marty is fucked up,” he snaps through knitted brows. No matter how he transforms his face, I can’t erase how Emmy or any woman would be attracted to his boyish charm. It makes me want to fuck his face up.

And maybe he’s right.

Marty’s whole family was murdered in a night air raid by some small country bordering Russia or some shit.

I mean, he’d have to be some sort of fucked up to be part of B723. We all are in some capacity—big or small.

Dropping my bag, I fish out my lighter fluid, bow and arrow, and six-inch blade. I also pull out a cigarette and put it between my lips.

“She’ll never forgive you.” I snort, shoving my anguish aside because it doesn’t belong in this situation. It belongs in the ground with this fuck. “She named her son after you.”

My focus snaps to him, one of my brows lifting in question. “You didn’t agree?”

Mills rolls his eyes. “Emmy gets what she wants.”

“Yeah—“ I flick my zippo. ”—and you got her.”

“Those kids don’t deserve you screwing them up because you’re pissed, and your pride is cracked.” I ignore him, dowsing the end of one of my arrows with lighter fluid as I inhale on my smoke. “Bishop, this is bullshit. Grow the hell up. Emmy will haunt you. You’re going to kill off the only parent those babies have? She’ll never forgive you. She’ll—“

“She’s fucking dead,” I roar, my teeth digging into my filter. “Fuck what she wants or feels. She lied.”

“She—“

“Gib Laut.”

Speak. 

Armageddon barks loudly and Mills snaps his focus back to my dog, uncertain of what the hell I just said but it gets him to shut the hell up.

Using my lighter to ignite the tip of my arrow, I arrange my bow and insert it.

Mills watches me before his Glock appears in his hand, cocking the hammer back and aims it at my dog.

He doesn’t have the fucking balls.

Aiming, the flames dance along the end and Mills holds my stare.

“I’ll shoot this fucking dog,” Mills warns.

“Bet.” I release the cord, sending the arrow on its way and through Mills’s forearm. He immediately drops the gun and clamps his teeth together, leaning up against the tree trunk for support.

“You’re a fucking asshole, man,” he sneers.

“Mhm.” Can’t argue with him there, nor can I blame him for the way I am either.

But the way I’m feeling, that’s all him. Insecure in my own emotions and feelings. Vulnerable when the woman I loved held me in the palm of her hand and crushed me in the same one.

“I’m not going to make this easy.”

I nod, plucking my cigarette out of my mouth. “I know.”

“You’re going to have to live with this.”

I’m aware of that too.

God only knows what would’ve been different if I had just told Emmy what I needed her to stop fucking doing and how much I adored her.

And I never stopped.

Grabbing another arrow, Mills takes off out of the corner of my eye. I never expected him to accept it like a man and wait for me to take his ass out.

That would be asinine.

He might have a small chance of making it out alive, but he’d be an idiot not to try.

I disregard the lighter fluid, running with a flame isn’t going to work out the way I want, and I can use it fucking later when I tie him up in the back of my truck. If he thinks I’m going to take him out in the middle of the woods, he’s wrong.

Armageddon faithfully follows me as I see the blue of Mills’s shirt about thirty yards away.

I haul back on my cord, aiming down with one eye when the piercing of wood breaks off the tree a few feet from me.

A bullet. 

I round the nearest one and hunch down, taking cover and waiting for any snapping of sticks or foreign noises.

I hear it, and now I’m intrigued.

Maybe Mills wasn’t on the phone with anyone on B723 because if he had, my cell would be going off the hook right now.

With my hand, I gesture Armeggedon to lie down so I can focus on who’s out here with me trying to save Prince Charming.

I pull back on my arrow and peek around to see if I can locate anyone.

“Not looking to hurt you, friend,” a male voice reassures me. “Just need to make sure he has a head start.”

Who in the fuck is this?

The voice doesn’t sound familiar, and I highly doubt some random asshole came in after us with a gun and a good shot.

Unless he didn’t miss on purpose.

Rising with the cover of the tree still, I begin to lean over, but another bullet hits the trunk right next to where my head would’ve been.

“Stay right there,” he orders.

Um, yeah, no. 

I come out from my forest shield and locate a dude about as tall as me with a buzz cut and dark facial hair. His steroid-out muscles protrude from his black t-shirt as he stands there as if he’s waiting for me. No longer is his gun aimed, and he regards me with curiosity.

“You’re the big bad wolf, huh?” I perk a brow because, again, who the fuck is this? He glances down at his wrist that has a watch wrapped around it. “You’re only stuck with me for about forty-five more seconds, chief.”

“Call me one more fucking name, ass clown, and you’re going to know what it feels like to have your heart pierced.”

He smirks. “Charming.”

Yeah, fuck this asshole. 

As I’ve done a million other times in a hasty scenario, I raise my weapon and shoot, watching it pierce through his thigh.

He only looks d own at it. “And a dickhead.”

“Who are