A gruff yell called from behind. Turning, I flipped a barbell from the rack and twirled it around my body as if it were as light as a spear. I pushed all my strength into throwing the barbell directly into the incoming guard with innate force. Even with the blunt end, the hunk of metal tore straight through his abdomen, piercing out his back to stab into the wall behind him. The barbell vibrated violently from the impact. The guard looked down at the thick cylinder protruding from his gut, blood gushing from his mouth, before his chin hung to his chest in eternal sleep.

The rest blurred together, my bloodlust salivating for more carnage, more violence, more surrender.

When I finally came to, I was shirtless, thick, warm blood stuck to every inch of my exposed chest, lungs heaving from exertion as sweat ran down my face.

One guard remained, his whimpers growing in volume as I stalked him like the prey he was. He remained on his back, shuffling for the exit and holding onto his injured shoulder. The bullet wasn’t lethal. I didn’t want him to have the easy way out.

I craved a hands-on death, lived for the close kill, hungered for the warmth of fresh blood slipping through my fingers. Only the worst of us recognised the desperate yearning for the slowing thumps of a dying heart. And like the others, I’d get that from him.

“Get on your knees,” I commanded him, my voice raspy from misuse.

When he finally stumbled to a kneeled position, he looked up at me with all the fear in the world shining in his eyes. My heart lifted at the expression.

Without ceremony, I lifted a 10kg dumbbell and repeatedly concaved it into his skull, the resounding cracks of his thick bone harmonising with the screeching female screams that filled the air.

Everything eclipsed into the background when a slow, singular clap arose, tumbling into an enthusiastic applause. I lifted my gaze to Spencer, still in her disguise, leaning against the threshold with a mask of total glee. Not a single hair on her head was out of place and not a fleck of dirt marked her pristine orange gown.

She swaggered forward, no hesitation in her step whatsoever, releasing a low whistle.

I lifted a brow at her unblemished appearance. “Why does it look like you simply stood there and watched?”

Spencer chuckled. “As if you needed my help, Mr 10%.” She veered past me and crouched in front of the terrified cowering women in the corner, the stench of urine heavy, as potent as their fear. “Where is Rose?” Spencer asked gently.

When no one answered, Spencer bolted upright, the fast movement causing them all to flinch. “Like he said,” she pointed to the heap of mangled flesh that lay before me, completely unrecognisable. “Brown hair, golden eyes, a killer fucking body. She’s been here, so WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?!” her shrill voice exploded.

One girl with a lily stitched over her front lifted her chin—the only one who wasn’t whimpering in fear—her eyes direct and clear. “She’s down the corridor in the end room. She was taken there and hasn’t returned.”

Spencer eyed her off and looked on the verge of shredding her to pieces. I pulled on her arm. “Let’s go.”

Spencer hit my hand off, a bright red handprint staining the fabric. Her eyes narrowed, orange irises transitioning ruby red to match. Literally.

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

She didn’t reply, although from her expression, I realised this wouldn’t be the end.

Instead, we turned in unison and stormed towards the room in question, the door tearing from its hinges as we shoved through the tiny archway.

There was Micah, her wrists tied above her as her tight thighs constricted the neck of a guard. His face was purple, eyes bulging out of their sockets from the pressured chokehold. We were able to catch a glimpse of his last remaining seconds of life before she released her tense muscles and he flopped forward, dead.

Spencer pouted in annoyance. “We came to save you, Micah. At least act like a victim.”

“From the looks of it, you didn’t do much.” Her gaze bounced between us, eyeing our polar opposite appearances. “You came too early, I was waiting for Maximus.”

Spencer rolled her eyes and examined the weapons that laid atop a random desk. “Do you want us to leave?”

“No,” I said, finally finding my voice. Upon finding Micah I was rendered motionless, emotions cascading into a raging tornado as I clocked every inch of her. The bruised cheek, chafed wrists, grazed legs, her dishevelled state—all whilst wearing a piece of fucking string. She was hurt and I had just caught her with a man’s face between her fucking legs, his limp dick flapping like some dying fish. No matter the circumstances, I couldn’t fucking take it.

I kicked the corpse aggressively out of the way and raged towards my golden girl.

Coming up short, my face hovered inches above hers as my fingers traced her injured face. “You have a lot of explaining to do, baby.”

Unperturbed by my aggressive stance, her eyes filled with warmth as she wrapped her legs around my waist. “That I do.”

With her skin finally against mine, I wasn’t about to pull away. I wasn’t going to let her go. I ripped apart the ropes constricting her wrists, freeing her from the restraints, her weight settling onto my hips as her arms wrapped around my neck. “My hero,” she teased as her lips came forward to brush against mine.

I didn’t want gentle, I didn’t want soft. Not then.

My fingers dug into her ass, then I devoured her mouth.

I heard a grumble of disgust before Spencer scurried out the door to leave us to our reunion.

Chapter 31Micah

Ididn’t know how long we were wrapped up in each other, but my flesh hummed from his contact. A trail of heat ran from his fingers, directly warming my centre. My muscles tensed around his form ever tighter. Having him in my arms again, I was reluctant to let go, to put even an inch of space between us. Desperate for anything he was willing to give, my pussy pulsing for him to fill me, nails digging into his skin. I wanted to fucking consume him.

His urgency matched my own as his panted growls added gasoline to my ever-growing desire. August attempted to slow down and pull away, my fingers ripping into his hair to keep him right there with me. He tried again, grinding my bottom lip between his teeth.

“Behave, baby. We have to leave.”

I ignored his comment and shoved my tongue in his mouth. He groaned in retaliation, dropping his head backward, lips silently muttering words I couldn’t hear.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Cursing you and this magical hold you have over me. I have to find the strength to stop and walk out of this fucking room.”

I smiled into the crook of his neck, sending shivers trembling over his body.

We eventually detangled and he reluctantly placed me back on the ground. He didn’t let go completely, some part of him always in contact with my raw skin, whether a light touch or a gentle caress. His palm slipped into mine, leading me to the exit.

I stopped short as I saw the sheer massacre that awaited in the gymnasium. Scarlet red drenched every available surface, stray limbs and body parts littered all over the floor. It was as if a rabid beast was let loose to unfurl complete violent carnage in their wake, ripping and feasting on their prey until nothing but tattered carcasses remained.

Spencer leant against the archway. “Yep, your boyfriend went full blown psycho.” She almost sounded impressed.

Upon that statement, the flower girls in the corner gasped. My gaze caught on the ragged corpse of Scarface, his brain matter splattered around his fractured skull.

“Did you want that one for yourself?” August asked, misinterpreting my pause.

I shook my head. “Your hands may as well be mine, your actions an extension of my own. To know he suffered is enough. To know it was you who did it is everything.”

I caught my reflection in his black obsidian eyes and wasn’t surprised what I found on my face. Adoring love. I was so fucking in love with this man.

Spencer fake-gagged. “All this romance is making me sick. When you miss the mindless fucking and the countless males fawning at your feet, Micah, let me know.” Psycho flinched, his gaze narrowing on my sister, who had a suggestive smirk written on her stranger’s mask. “Who knew killing a room full of men would get you all hot and heavy, sister? I would have suggested it ages ago.”

August took a menacing step towards her. Spencer raised her hands immediately in surrender. He didn’t know it yet, but this was just the beginning, his reaction the perfect kindling to her menacing ways.

The flower girls remained wide-eyed and vacant, completely in shock. I crouched before them. “Either follow us and live, or stay here and die.”

I spared Lily a glance, who met my stare head-on and gave a resolute nod. I undid the ropes still wrapping her wrists and turned for the exit, not bothering to check if they followed.