Filed to story: The LORDS Series Free PDF by Shantel Tessier
I take a few steps down, not wanting them to know I’m here, and come to a stop once the room comes into view.
My brows furrow. I’ve been down here. I remember it from that night the fight broke out. There’s a metal table that I remember being on. Tyson was on top of me, and Colton was holding me down. Right before I passed out. When I woke up, I was in our bed upstairs.
I see Colton and Finn first, leaning back against a metal counter. Colt has his arms crossed over his chest while Finn has his in his front jeans pockets. Taking another step lower, Tyson comes into view. He’s standing in the middle of the room in front of a man on his knees with his arms tied behind his back.
Tyson yanks the knife from the guy’s thigh and wipes the bloody blade across his jeans. “I’m not going to repeat myself,” he states calmly, as if he has all day to torture the man.
The man looks up at my husband with gritted teeth. “Why do you fucking care anyway, huh? So what if another Minson bitch dies? It’s not like it’s a secret why you married Laikyn.”
Tyson kneels down in front of the guy and smiles at him, it makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. He lifts the knife, twirls it around in his hand before slamming it down, sinking the blade into the man’s other thigh. “Why don’t you tell me why I married her.”
“Fucking … bastard,” he spits out, trying to control his breathing.
“Hmm?” He twists it just a tad, and the guy throws his head back, screaming. It’s so loud, I place my hands over my ears.
“Revenge,” he growls. “On her father.”
Tyson yanks it out and the guy sags his shoulders, his body falling forward a little more as drool falls from his lips. “And then Whitney…”
“What about her?” Tyson asks, not sounding like he cares one bit.
“She was nothing more than a pawn. Just like her sister now.”
Tyson walks up to him and places the tip of the blade under his neck, forcing him to arch it back to look up at him. “Maybe I love my wife,” he offers.
The guy barks out a laugh. “A Lord doesn’t love anything other than their brand.”
“Coming from someone who isn’t a Lord.” Tyson rolls his eyes, stepping back.
The guy bares his teeth. “It’s not hard to win when you cheat,” he spits out.
Tyson looks behind the guy to where Alex stands up against the far wall. “Uncuff him,” he orders.
Alex steps forward and unlocks the cuffs that holds the guy’s wrists behind his back. He brings them forward, rubbing them. He gets to his shaky legs and Tyson holds out the knife to Colton who takes it.
“I just want you to understand that if you kill me, you still won’t walk out of here alive,” Tyson warns him, rolling up the sleeves to his button-up. Translation, the other four men who work for my husband will make sure the guy dies.
The man snorts. “I’d gladly die a hero.”
Tyson smirks and the guy rushes him, letting out a scream. Tyson ducks as the guy goes to hit him, making him miss. Tyson wraps his arms around the guy’s legs, picking him up off the floor and starts running with him. Slamming his back into the far wall. Alex has to move out of the way so he doesn’t get hit.
Tyson lets go of him, and the guy falls to his knees. Tyson grips his head and pushes it down while his knee comes up, smashing his face. Blood and spit cover Tyson and the floor as the man falls to it.
“Last chance,” Tyson speaks. “Why did you stab my wife?”
My eyes widen. Wait? This is about me?
The guy is on all fours, looking up at my husband. He smiles. “Why would I tell you?” He falls onto his ass and wipes his bloody face. “I’m dead anyway.”
“Clear your conscience,” Tyson offers.
He laughs once more. “I will tell you this, though. Someone wants your wife more than you do.” Tyson stiffens and my breath catches. “You’re not the only monster out there, Tyson. They know every move you’re going to make. And you can’t save her. Just like you weren’t able to save Whitney.” He laughs, showing his blood-covered teeth. “Your wife will die in your arms just like her sister.”
I swallow nervously. How does this guy know all of this?
“History repeats itself,” he adds.
Tyson reaches out his right hand and Colton places the knife in it. He throws it, making contact with the guy’s shoulder, knocking him to the concrete floor, screaming out once again. “Fuuccckkk,” he gasps.
Tyson goes over to him and places his boot on the man’s chest, holding him down on his back. “Who wants her?” he demands.
The guy shakes his head. “I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”
Tyson leans over and yanks the knife from his shoulder, making the man grunt. Grabbing the man’s hair, Tyson drags him to the center of the room and positions him on his knees. Stepping behind him, he yanks his head back and places the knife to the guy’s throat.
I stiffen when the guy’s eyes meet mine. “Good luck.” He smiles before Tyson runs the knife across his neck, splitting the skin like butter.
I slap a hand over my mouth to keep my gasp from being heard. No one realizes I’m here expect for the dead man that has blood gushing from his neck wound. A gargling sound fills the room as his body convulses.
Tyson lets go of him and the guy drops to the floor, a pool of blood growing larger by the second as he bleeds out. “I’m going to go shower. Meet me in my office after you’ve cleaned this mess up,” he orders.
I run up the stairs on shaky legs and exit the basement. I walk on autopilot to the wait station. The club has opened since I’ve been down there, and the blinding lights make it feel like I’m walking uneven. Or maybe I am. I stop, placing my hands on the bar. Bowing my head, I close my eyes and try to gather my thoughts.
All of these years, I really thought Tyson killed my sister. Even my brother tried to tell me that he hadn’t. But I didn’t want to believe Miller.
But what if Tyson hadn’t? What if he was innocent and someone went after her because of him? I’ve never thought of it that way. Like me. Who have I pissed off? No one. But why would someone want me dead? It doesn’t add up. Because the guy was right, no one thinks Tyson loves me so why would my death matter? Just to make him relive Whitney’s death maybe?
“Couldn’t handle it, huh?” Bethany laughs, seeing the look on my face.
I lift my eyes to Beau, and he gives me a sympathetic smile. “I tried to help you,” he says before giving me his back to go grab an order.
Bethany comes back to place an order and I look over at her. “You can have my table,” I say, and turn, giving her my back. I make my way to the elevator and go up to the apartment.
FORTY-ONE
TYSON
Senior year at Barrington University
I enter the house, shoving the door open. Her car wasn’t outside. “Whitney?” I call out, but there’s no answer. “Whitney?”
I’m pushing doors open, yanking blankets and comforters off beds, trying to find her but don’t see her anywhere. The place looks somewhat abandoned. Cabinets open, but nothing in them. Old furniture in the front living room. “Whitney?” Where the fuck is she?
I come to the last door in the four-bedroom house, and it’s locked. “I’m kicking this open,” I warn, just in case she’s on the other side, my adrenaline pumping that something really is wrong. Whitney has been over the top but she’s never this dramatic. And I’d hate to be downplaying something that’s really wrong.
Lifting my foot, I slam my boot into the door, splintering the wood and I enter the room. There’s a bed in the middle with nothing more than a blanket wadded up and covered in blood. My eyes drop to the floor, and I see her lying there on her back, arms out to her side and eyes closed. I drop down beside her and place my fingers to her neck. “Whitney? What the fuck?” She’s got a pulse. Barely.
Without wasting any time. I pick her limp body up in my arms and carry her out of the house. Ryat is already waiting in my car by the curb.
The passenger side door opens when he sees me carrying her. “Fuck.”
“Drive us to the hospital,” I bark, and he’s already opening the back passenger door for me to crawl in with her. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay,” I whisper to her, sitting in the back seat. Her body lies in my arms, blood runs from her broken jaw and busted nose. “I promise …” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. The fact that her clothes are covered in dirt, shirt is ripped, and her jeans undone tells me all I need to know. Not to mention the bruises around her neck.
What the fuck happened? Who the hell was she with? I haven’t spoken to her in two days. How long had she been there and how did she get there? I didn’t see her car anywhere.
“Almost there,” Ryat announces from the driver seat while taking a curve so fast, I feel the rear end fishtail, jerking us around.