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

since. I’ve been teeter-tottering on deleting everything of Emmy in my phone to finding myself staring at it with a piercing pit of emptiness in my stomach.

Every picture I’ve taken of her, every text message we’ve ever had, and the constant need to check her Instagram has been mocking and tearing at me.

And now that I’ve had plenty of time to reflect, I hate her more than ever. Except I can’t make myself delete a fucking thing.

They say love and hate are very similar emotions, ones with different reactions but the same gutting feeling when it goes horribly wrong. I want to smoke and drink her out of my head but know that’s never ever going to happen.

Not for me, but it sure as hell did for her.

Regardless, she’s dead, and Mills is alive when I wish it were the other way around.

So taking matters into my own hands was going to begin the moment Mills stepped out of the safety of his home and into the world where I’ve been.

Alone.

Upset.

Livid.

And on a fucking warpath to obliterate the man who received what I wanted.

So we’ll add envy to the list as well.

Mills left his home when Blue showed up, and it would’ve been kind of me to let him drive away, believing that everything would be okay when he did, but I’m too much of an asshole for that.

Settled between the buildings of his new condo, I aim my silenced Glock at the back of his head and purposely miss. I like the hunt. And furthermore, I want Mills’s heart to burst in his ribcage in fear.

I want him to know it’s me.

He might be a fucker, but he’s not a completely stupid one. He’ll know when he’s being gunned down and by who.

So when he begins to run towards his black BMW to make his escape, the curl of a smile resonates off my face.

You see, I like more of a show, and shooting someone is mundane and typical. I want to tear Mills apart into small pieces, and while torturing him would be ideal, the looming consequences of B723 attempting to save him hovered over my head.

Mills hops into his car, slamming the door with Kyson more than likely on the other line of his cell when he hears it.

The motherfucker hears it.

The moment he turned the ignition to his car, he heard the click. The tick of the bomb that would trigger its five-second countdown.

Mills throws open the door and sprints out, causing me to follow and pull myself from the casted shadows of my spot.

I could chase him or continue to gun his ass down from afar, but I’m not looking for a swarm of cops to surround the area when someone calls to report the explosion.

No, I want him to live in dread.

Or not.

I move, watching him start for the wooded area behind the parking lot with his phone still attached to his ear.

It’s another step I anticipated him taking should he continue to be the bane of my existence and catch on to my first plan.

The car blows, scattering pieces of metal and glass. It’s ear-piercing and a waste of a nice-looking ride, but collateral damage is what comes with revenge plans sometimes.

Opening up my truck, I let Armageddon loose, as I command, “Revier.”

Hunt. 

My German Shepherd takes off, tracking down my target, who used to be someone I would protect with my own life.

Now I just want to take his.

Taking my time, I retrieve a small bag from the backseat and follow my dog into the woods, hitting the edge when I hear Armageddon bark that he’s located Mills.

It doesn’t matter that my dog knows him, it’s the strict command to find what I want and keep it there until I arrive.

I sprint through the trees and brush, praying for Mills’s sake that he doesn’t have a gun to shoot Armageddon, or I’m going to make it that much more painful for him.

“Arm!” I hear Mills shout. “Get the fuck off me!”

I smile, heaving the bag over my shoulder when my ex-teammate growls something into the phone.

“Bishop,” he storms. “He just tried to fucking kill me.”

Oops. 

Armageddon barks again, luring my attention to my right with Mills up against a thick tree and kicking at him to back off.

The boys are never going to forgive me for this, but I planned on leaving B723 anyway. There’s nothing left but painful memories and the fact that I need to move forward with my life.

And it isn’t with the guys.

Where there is violence and bloodshed here, I can’t stay. And I sure as hell couldn’t stay when I had to stare at Mills every fucking day.

“Bishop!” I glance up to see Mills already boring a glare in my direction. “You stupid motherfucker, what the fuck?!”

“What the fuck indeed,” I deadpan, then look to my dog. “Fass.”

Bite. 

My dog jumps and seizes Mills’s thigh between his jaws, clamping down to which Mills throws out a string of curses.

He then lowers his voice and pockets his phone while Arm remains still with his body part within his sharp teeth.

“I will shoot this dog,” Mills warns, locking his gaze with mine.

I shrug because I’ll pop a cap in his dick if he tries it. “Platz.”

Down. 

Armageddon releases Mills, and he grips his leg where a pattern of dark stains begin to seep through the jean material of his pants.

“You’re fucking serious?” he professes, his face twisted in pain and fury.

“I am.” Mills shakes his head and averts his gaze from me, experienced in what comes next because he’s been with me while I do it to others.

Instead, this time he’s on the other side because he fucked my girl.

She fucked him. 

They had two kids together and I can’t even have that with her. I’m not able to keep the pieces of what remains because they are linked to someone who was always supposed to have my back.

We were brothers.

We stuck together.

He betrayed me in the worst way possible. I would’ve rather him stabbed me in the