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594 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 1, 2015
He watched his boots get dustier as he continued his descent and mentally chastised himself for not bringing shoe polish with him. Christ, he’d bet his life on the fact that Jacobs would have some. Shit, business had made him forget all those little details that had kept him from being found out before. He’d perfected the art years ago but now he was a fucking softy in comparison to the way he was when this was his life, when his every waking moment was based on who needed what from him and how much he had to inflict to get the information required or shut someone up completely.
His own choice of amusement had been firmly rooted in someone’s sense of fear, of what could happen before it inevitably did. It still was really. He’d spent plenty of time taunting, torturing and goading to get whatever he needed from them before he did what he was paid to do.
He was only still breathing because Alex had been more concerned about getting Elizabeth to safety and away from what she’d watched him unleash. Her look of disgust had been firmly implanted at the time she’d thrown it at him and he could still feel it now, burrowing under his skin, making him feel something other than the nothing he normally felt in these situations.
He narrowed his eyes at the man rolling around in the dirt. He probably should but the fact was he didn’t have the enthusiasm for the fun of it anymore. He loved her and just wanted the man to pay for his idiotic behaviour. He didn’t care if the idiot learnt a lesson or not because he wouldn’t be around to change the way he acted, and therefore his opinion didn’t matter in the slightest.
Alex stared for six of those minutes as he listened to the man start the begging process and clamber up to his knees again, as best he could with the damage there. They all did that, begged for their lives as if it would make a difference to him somehow. It never did so he just gazed at the stuttering fool.
When he thought he’d done a thorough enough job of ending the man’s existence, he watched the jerky movements of the body impassively as the residual movement of damaged nerves finally gave up their fight for life as well. He pushed his own boot onto the corpse’s chest hard and heard the whoosh of air leave the fucker’s lips for the last time with a sneer as those dead eyes stared back lifelessly. He tilted his head at the figure and tried to find a sense of shame in himself, or maybe remorse of some sort, but there was nothing again, just silence and the echo of his own breathing in the cold space around them. Disgusted with the lifeless form, he drew in a long breath and cracked his neck back into place while circling his shoulder about. He really was getting too old for this shit. He’d said he’d never do that again. But then he’d never loved before, never loved her before, and whether she liked it or not, he’d kill for her. He just had and he’d do it again in a heartbeat.