Natural Born Killers (Sick Boys Book 3)

by Lucy Smoke

  very beginning, but I didn't know you were this stupid."

  "You think you know everything?" she says quickly, squeezing the words

  out as if she has something to offer me that might stop me from what I'm

  about to do to her.

  "I know enough." I rear back and pound my other fist into her face. Her

  nose folds under my knuckles—the sharp crunching sounding like a melody

  to my ears. She cries out as blood flies. Her nails scratch along my arm as she

  fights to get away. I punch her again and watch as the back of her head slams

  into the wall. I can practically see the dizziness assailing her. It doesn't

  matter. She's going to pay for what she did. For every fucking thing.

  Even if she didn't shove Roger's dick inside of me. Even if she didn't put

  my finger on the trigger. Even if she didn't make me set fire to my own

  mother. She was the catalyst. She planned it all—and yes, though she is

  working for someone else, even though she's just a puppet, her betrayal hurts

  on some level.

  It's my fault for opening myself up—even the small amount that I had—

  to her. I've learned my lesson. I won't make this mistake again. My fingers

  clench around her throat even harder as the anger finally lets loose.

  Using my hold on her, I throw her across the elevator and into the

  opposite wall. She smacks into it and slowly sinks down, her hand going to

  her face as she ducks my next blow. Scrambling across the floor she reaches

  for her purse once more. It didn't even occur to me that she might have a

  weapon in there, but there's no doubt I can't let her reach it.

  Leaping on top of her, I wrap my legs around her waist and yank her

  back, putting her head in a lock with my forearm pressed against her throat

  once more. A half-garbled scream erupts from her lips and without warning,

  her head rears back and her skull connects with my face. I see stars.

  "Fuck!" She bucks and fights like a woman possessed. Perhaps it's

  because she really does have a gun in that fucking purse, or maybe she

  realizes just how serious I am. Who can really say?

  Blood runs down my arms as she claws at me, screaming and cursing.

  She tries to head butt me again, but the second she arches forward to bring it

  back I tuck my face into her neck and pinch the sides of her throat until she

  stops breathing altogether. Her body bows as she struggles to get out of my

  hold.

  An elbow connects with my face and I gasp as the whole world goes

  fucking white for a split second. That split second is all she needs. Corina

  breaks free and jumps up, gasping and coughing even as her hand slaps the

  emergency button once more. The lights flash back on and the elevator starts

  moving again.

  I’m not ready to let her get away, though. It’s not gonna be that fucking

  easy to escape me.

  On the ground, I kick out, knocking her ankles together. She goes down

  in a heap and I roll on top of her. Shoving my fingers roughly into her hair on

  either side of her head, I pull her up and then slam her back down. If her skull

  cracks before I'm able to get my revenge, then oh fucking well. She's not

  going any-fucking-where. I can't let her get away—not after everything she's

  done. Not after the pain she's caused. I let the rage overtake me.

  Once, twice, three times. I beat her head against the floor of the elevator

  until my muscles hurt. She scratches my face, punches my ribs. I feel

  something crack. It doesn't matter. Water dances in front of my eyes. That,

  too, doesn't fucking matter.

  Corina manages to get one foot under her and shoves until she's on top.

  My body freezes. On top. She's on top. Roger was on top when he—red fills

  my vision—I snatch one of her hands, latching onto two of her fingers, and I

  squeeze until she screams in pain, until her fingers pop and I can feel them

  moving around under her skin, bone scraping against bone.

  It's not enough. None of it will ever be enough. Flipping her over, I shove

  to my feet and stand over her as she holds her hand to her chest, tears

  streaming down her face. Distantly, I hear the elevator floors go by. Then, as

  the last ding reaches my ears, I lift my foot over her face and smash the heel

  of my boot down.

  Corina sags. Her screaming stops. She's out cold. The elevator doors open

  and a panting, sweaty Dean comes careening around the corner with Abel and

  Braxton and Luc at his back. Red wet blood slowly trickles down the sides of

  my arms. My legs feel loose and there's a distant ringing in my ears. Kicking

  a foot out to stop the doors from closing, I reach down with one hand and

  grab Corina by the back of her shirt, dragging her out of the elevator.

  Without any sense of care, I drop her on the tile of the lobby floor and

  turn my head. Gone are the attendants that had been at the front desk earlier.

  For a long second, the guys seem shocked by my disheveled state, and if I'm

  being honest, I am too. I hadn't expected Corina to fight as hard as she had. I

  suppose, though, that when one's life is at stake—people will do things they

  never thought themselves capable of.

  "Get that," I say, pointing down at her unconscious body as I start

  walking past them, heading for the sliding glass doors that lead out into the

  street. "We're finishing this. Tonight. "

  36

  AVALON

  CORINA SCREAMS. SHE CURSES. SHE LASHES OUT AND THREATENS. THE SOUND

  of her shrieking voice is enough to drive anyone insane. I'm half tempted to

  walk over there and cut out her tongue, but I hold myself back. For now,

  anyway.

  "Luc," she sobs. "Luc, please, you have to help me! She's crazy." I am

  crazy, she's right about that. "I don't know what she told you, but it's a lie. It's

  all a lie."

  "Does she really fucking think I'm gonna fall for that?" Luc shakes his

  head and turns away from her, and a little part of me finds satisfaction in the

  heartbreak that crosses her face a moment before her devilish eyes turn on

  me.

  "You fucking bitch!" she shrieks. "What did you do to him? What did you

  tell him?"

  I shrug. "I didn't do anything," I inform her. "And I just told him the

  truth."

  Luc looks back once more at that and scowls. "Can you shut her up?" he

  snaps. "She's getting on my fucking nerves."

  Corina looks like she's been slapped. Her face registers nothing but shock

  and hurt. Tears well up in her eyes and she sniffs. When she opens her mouth

  once more, her voice is softer. "I'm sorry, Luc," she whispers. "I don't know

  why you seem to hate me now, but I promise you—whatever she's told you is

  a lie—if you want me to be quiet, I will be, but it's the truth. I'm innocent.

  I've never done anything to Avalon. I only tried to be her friend, you know

  that."

  I snort, earning a hard glare from her. "She's not so innocent, Luc; you

  know what she did to Kate," Corina goes on. "She was jealous of her—

  Avalon's in love with you."

  "She better not fucking be," Dean growls from where he stands with his

  back against one of the pillars that line the house's empty living room.

  "Don't worry, D-man," I say
. "The only man that's crazy enough to want

  me is you."

  "Doubt it," Luc replies, grinning my way. "You're a very attractive

  woman. If you ever do fall for me, let me know. I'd be happy to take you off

  Dean's hands any time, Ava. Say the word."

  "Watch your fucking mouth, Kincaid," Dean snaps, straightening away

  from the pillar.

  "Now why would I do that when I've got you to watch it for me," Luc

  shoots back, that grin never leaving his lips. "You seem awfully focused on

  my mouth, Dean. I'm not gonna suck your dick."

  I roll my eyes and step between them as Dean shoots forward, fully

  intending to knock Luc down a peg or two, I suspect. "Enough with the dick

  measuring contest, you two," I say, lifting a hand as he stops in front of me.

  "No need to measure, baby," Dean replies, his voice lowering. "We know

  who's bigger, better, and badder in bed."

  Luc snickers. "Didn't take you for the type to admit you were bad in bed,

  my man."

  "I'm not your fucking anything," Dean snarls, taking another step forward

  just as the piercing ring of his cell goes off. With a curse, he yanks out his

  phone and checks the screen. He points at Luc. "I will fuck you up, Kincaid.

  Keep your hands to yourself." His hand lowers and he glares at me. "Don't

  leave this fucking room," he growls at me. "I'll be right back."

  "Aye, aye, Captain," I say sardonically as he storms out of the room with

  his phone pressed to his ear.

  "But for your info, Cor," Luc says, returning his attention to Corina as he

  moves closer to me. I know he's only doing this now that Dean's out of the

  room and because he knows what it'll do to her. His arm circles my waist and

  he pulls me closer, intimately closer. Luc's an attractive man, but I meant

  what I said—Dean really is the only crazy man I need or have the fucking

  mental capacity for. Luc might not seem as outwardly unhinged, but I have

  the feeling he's hiding a lot of darkness under those ocean blue eyes and that

  boy next door smile of his. "Avalon did tell me all that you've done. She also

  made a few more things clear, and over the last few weeks, I've been doing

  my own research."

  Corina's face goes pale. "R-research?" she stutters as Braxton finishes

  tightening the last of her bindings. "W-what kind of research?"

  I glance up at Luc, noting the cruel twist of his lips as he smiles at her.

  His fingers clench against my side. "All of it revolving around you, Cor," he

  says. "And you've been a very bad girl, haven't you?"

  "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

  I glance between the two of them, curious. Luc's eyes turn hard. His

  brows lower and his smile twists even more, tightening the edges of his lips.

  "I think you do, Corina," he says, his tone low and dangerous. "You've been

  planning this for quite a fucking while, haven't you? Ever since the first day

  Avalon showed up. You knew she'd be coming."

  "H-how would I know that?" Sweat begins to collect at Corina's temples.

  Her gaze rests firmly on Luc as if she's terrified to look anywhere else.

  After a moment of silence where Luc simply stares at her—as if assessing

  her resolve to keep her lips shut—he loosens his hold on me and turns away.

  "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter now," he replies. "What I found, though,

  Corina … you're fucking lucky I don't kill you myself. You're fucking lucky

  she's got more of a right than I do to take you out." Luc's hands clench into

  fists as he steps away from me, moving through the room and into another

  several paces away. The glass doors remain hanging open, a pillar on either

  side of the opening.

  The further from Corina he moves, however, the more unhinged she

  becomes. "Luc!" she screams. "Luc, please! You have to understand. I didn't

  want to, they made me!"

  I turn back to her. "Who?" I demand. "Who made you do what?"

  That shuts her up. She glares at me, struggling as she tries to rip her hands

  free from the arms of the chair. "Shut up!" she screeches. "You're the one to

  blame for all of this! It's your fault he hates me now! Everything was fine

  before you came along!"

  I roll my eyes and turn away. The shrieking continues as I walk towards

  Luc. "Brax?" I call over my shoulder.

  "On it," he replies. I don't look back as I hear Corina's chair rattle and

  scrape against the wood flooring.

  "No! Stop. Get away from me, you-you psycho! " The irony of Corina

  calling anyone else a psycho doesn't escape me.

  Finally, her screams cut off with a grunt and a low choked back moan.

  Thank fuck for Braxton. He'll watch her while I deal with Luc and once Dean

  returns, we can fucking start this shit and get it over with.

  Luc doesn't react to Corina's sudden silence or the sound of my approach.

  He stands in the opposite room, facing away from her. Like I told Abel, in a

  lot of ways, he reminds me of the guys. They don't see it, but I do.

  I take a second to look around the empty space. "It's funny," I say almost

  absently. "Money can buy almost anything..." Only a few hours ago, Dean

  and I had been laying naked in one of the most luxurious beds I've ever lain

  on, safe and secure like two normal lovers, in a penthouse suite across the

  city.

  Now, here we are in a small rural house on the outskirts of the city's

  suburbia. Though the house is older, it's been well maintained, and it works

  quite well for our purposes since the nearest neighbor is a good mile away. It

  hadn't taken him any time at all to set this up—almost as if he'd been

  planning for it. It wouldn't shock me to learn that he had been. Dean's a

  planner, I know that. Still, it's probably made easier by the fact that he's so

  fucking rich. It’s amazing what connections and cash can do.

  "Not everything," Luc replies softly, and I know from his tone he's not

  talking about the house or anything else. No. Whatever is going on in Luc

  Kincaid's head is for him and him alone. Whatever he'd found while he'd

  been helping to track Corina down and lure her back here, I could tell that it

  involved someone very important to him. A part of me doesn't want to ask.

  Perhaps being around Dean and the guys—even Rylie—has made me more

  human than I care to admit.

  "I didn't say everything," I remind him. "I said almost anything."

  Luc blows out a breath. If I thought for even a second that he might

  betray us, he wouldn't be here. Dean knows that. There's another reason that

  Luc's here. "So," I say, "what did you find while you were looking for her?"

  His blue eyes jerk up and he glares across the dark space. "You should

  know never to ask a man about his demons, Ava," he replies.

  A smile flits at my lips. "I'm not afraid of your demons, Luc, but you

  should be afraid of mine."

  A lock of blond hair falls over the side of his forehead when he shakes his

  head at me. "All you need to know is that Corina deserves whatever you do to

  her," he replies. Then in a softer voice, "probably worse."

  Doubtful, but only because I'm about as worse as it gets.

  "Don't worry," I tell him instead. "She's not leaving here." I look back at

  her, watching
her eyes center on us through the doorway as she struggles in

  vain, the chair scraping against the floorboards. Braxton stands to the side,

  watching her with a bored look on his face as he pulls a pocket knife from his

  pants and begins to flick it up and down, opening and closing it as he does.

  I’m half afraid he’ll end up stabbing himself in the hand, but even with his

  eyes centered on Corina, his movements never stop. That blade is like

  another limb to him. He doesn’t seem to need to pay any attention to it even

  as the sharp edge nearly grazes his palm a few times.

  Corina doesn't even look at him. No, Corina won't ever be leaving this

  house again. She's at the end of the road and that's why she's so desperate.

  She knows I'm going to kill her. I've never tried to hide it.

  Inhaling, I refocus my attention on Luc. "There is something I wanted to

  talk to you about," I say.

  He hums in his throat, reaching up and rubbing both of his hands through

  his hair, shaking out the curls there. "Yeah?"

  "Dean's going to be the head of the Carter family someday." I shove my

  hands into my pockets and lean back on my heels.

  Luc frowns at me. "Is that a statement or a warning?" he inquires, not

  sounding particularly threatened.

  "Just a statement," I assure him anyway. "It's a fact—as true as it is that

  you'll head the Kincaid family."

  "That I will." He continues to eye me. "Where are you going with this?"

  "A place you probably won't like," I reply, then before he can ask me

  anything else, I jump right in. "Don't you think that the two of you—the

  future heirs of your respective families and businesses—can make this

  ridiculous rivalry end?"

  Luc is a handsome man. Even if Dean is all my stupid body wants, my

  eyes can't deny that. He, a lot like Corina, has an innocent façade about him.

  The surfer boy look, I assume. Right now, however, his eyes sharpen and he

  straightens, moving towards me with slow, deliberate steps until he stands

  right before me. "Is that why you brought me along?" he demands. "You

  could've left me at the hotel after you had her. I've been wondering since I got

  here what your choice to bring me was all about; I suppose it was this?"

  I can feel Braxton's gaze on us, but I ignore it. I'm not afraid of Luc

  Kincaid.

  "Not completely," I state. "We brought you because you happened to be