DECEIT (B723) by Hazel Grace (ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) 📕

I repeatedly plunge inside her until I can’t breathe right and she follows me, milking my cock dry.

“Fuck,” I roar against her cheek.

“Again?”

“Baby,” I warn, gently placing her down. The moment her feet hit the floor, we hear an agonizing male scream from her living area.

Emmy jolts and I pull her into me. “The boys are having fun first, let them. They’re upset and they can’t fuck you so let them fuck him up.”

She nods. “Okay.” She lifts her chin. “Can Lucien come in now?”

“Not until you put your clothes back on.”

She smiles at me, puts on her bra and shirt, and opens the door to call out for the doc.

He comes back in, bitches at the fresh blood on her side, and glowers at me.

He knows what the hell I did.

And I don’t give a fuck.

There is so much blood on the black tarps that I can actually see the deep color contrast against it. Alexander is half-conscious; the boys had already done a number on him while Lucien was half-ass operating on Bishop’s shoulder, getting the bullet out and stitching him up. To Bishop’s utter displeasure and qualms of “being a waste of time”.

He wants this done and behind me.

I’m anxious as all hell.

The scene outside my bedroom was the darker side of B723. Each member leaving their signature mark on his flesh.

Marty’s waterboarding and a deep gash to his gash to Alexander’s bicep where he’s cut the sleeve of his shirt off.

Kyson skinning his forearm, neck, and collarbone to where I don’t see any skin remaining.

Mills and a car battery. Add that with Marty’s water, and you have what he calls his Pikachu lightning bolt or some shit.

Then Blue, the girl is a mess with the crap she likes to pull, but Alexander has a gunshot and a few stab wounds to the other leg. The end of her knife still poking from his thigh.

Bishop walks out with me, fingers laced in mine, capturing the immediate attention of the room. Four pairs of eyes fall on us, each holding a different emotion.

Rage.

Bitterness.

Sadness.

And proud.

Mills steps forward first, his face solemn until he stands in front of me, cracking his boyish smile. “We left a little bit of him for you, Lou Boo.”

I open my mouth to tell him thank you, but I choke on a sob.

Bishop squeezes my hand tighter, and Mill wraps his arms around me, letting me take comfort in his chest for a moment.

“Let’s end this and move on,” he mutters against my temple.

Prying myself away, I give him a nod before he steps to my other side and allows Blue to stand up to me.

“Make him cry like a bitch, Emmy Lou,” she conveys, not holding the same frisky and teasing tone she always carries. It’s anger and full of disdain. Even a little bit of guilt.

Marty is third up.

Damn, I feel like him and I just rescue his whole life, and now he’s doing it for mine.

His hazel eyes glue to my browns, and he’s so angry he can barely contain it. His face is flushed, not being able to allow it to pass and relax.

“We’re a family,” he says with grit in his tone. “No matter what happens next…we’re a family.”

“I know.”

“Fuck him up, and let’s go get some fresh air.” He kisses my forehead and bro-hugs it out with Bishop before falling in line with the rest of us.

Then Kyson comes in.

The man who has barely spoken to me since I faked my own death. The guy who is like a big brother to me. The kind you can tell shit to, but don’t dare let him on the shady dealings like having a one-night stand because he’ll kill, filet, or tell you hell no.

Then the person you slept with would be put on the endangered species list.

“Little Ems.” His voice is gentle, just like it always is. He towers over me as Bishop does, almost the same height, brothers since kids, the one who still can’t hide his disappointment in me. “We’re all here. You say the word, and we’ll take care of the rest. No judgment, no questions, no speaking of this ever again.”

“Kyson…I—“ He jerks me out of Bishop’s hold and hugs me so tightly I can’t breathe.

However, I’m content here.

“I barely kept it together,” he verifies in my hair. “I felt like I failed you.” I violently shake my head, his nose rubbing my locks. “We want this done for you. Bishop is going to be right behind. No one fucks with family. Kill the fucker, protect your kids, and let’s go home.”

“K.” He gently gives me back to Bishop when a familiar arm wraps around my waist and leans in to whisper in my ear.

“A month from now, you’ll be my wife for real, for real. Rings and every fucking thing. You, Reagan, and Stormi can plan it out. I’ll do whatever you say and want as long as I get to kiss and fuck you goodnight.” He kisses my temple. “This is retribution. Let’s defend our kids. They’re waiting for us.”

With a lot of hesitation, I flick my eyes to Alexander, who is an absolute mess. But his brown eyes bore so much hatred into me that everything I’ve learned in B723 is gone.

There is no courage that runs through my veins, no bravery. I feel battered and broken—just as extreme as him—when I stand at a distance face-to-face with him.

“Our kids,” Bishop whispers. “And I’m going to show you how to do this Bishop style since you’re gonna become one.”

His bow shows up in front of me, and I take it, feeling the slight heaviness of it as Alexander’s grim tone sears through me.

“You’re gonna kill me, Emmy?” he challenges, his dark brown eyes clenching deeper. “What will you tell our kids?”

“What kids?” Marty taunts back for me. “You’re a little boy who deflected his temper on the wrong woman.”

Bishop sets up an arrow, black with red flares at the