My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 157

Chapter 157

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Chapter 157

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a clean white cloth, wiping a spot of red off my watch face. It was an expensive watch. It told me exactly how much time I was wasting out here.

“Raphael!” Julian shouted from the trees, his face lit up with a sick, bright joy. “Did you get him? Was it good?”

I looked at the body at my feet. It was just a pile of meat and rags now. It meant nothing.

“It was fine,” I said, my voice flat, “What’s your count?”

“Ten, so far!” he yelled back.

I turned my head just as a shadow burst out from behind a thick pine. This one wasn’t a sniveling coward. He was big, a disgraced soldier we’d pulled from a cage. He had a piece of a broken beer bottle in his hand, and his eyes weren’t wet with tears. They were bright with hate.

“There you are,” I murmured, a tiny spark of heat finally touching my chest.

He lunged. The broken glass sliced through the air, aimed right for my throat. I moved my head an inch to the left, feeling the sharp edge whistle past my ear.

I didn’t reach for my gun. I didn’t even lift the machete yet. I wanted to see if he could do it again.

He swung a heavy fist, catching me square in the jaw. My head snapped back, and the taste of copper filled my mouth. I stumbled back two steps, my boots sliding in the slick mud.

“That’s better,” I said, spitting a glob of blood onto the leaves. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and felt a slow, dark grin pull at my lips.

I wasn’t bored anymore, now I was mildly amused.

The man let out a roar and charged again, trying to tackle me to the ground. He was strong. I dropped low, letting his weight carry him over my shoulder. As he moved past, I drove my elbow into the back of his neck.

The sound of his breath leaving his lungs was a sharp huff. He hit the dirt hard, but he didn’t stay down. He rolled, kicking out and catching my shin.

The pain was a beautiful bite.

I flipped the machete in my hand so the flat side of the blade was facing out. I didn’t want to end this too fast.

He scrambled up, holding the glass shard like a dagger. He was panting, his chest heaving under a torn shirt. ” Come on then, you rich prick!” he spat, “Kill me or let me go!”

“I don’t think I’ll do either yet,” I said.

I stepped into his space, he slashed at me again, but I was faster. I grabbed his wrist, the bone feeling weak in my grip. I squeezed until I heard the faint pop of his joint. The glass fell from his hand, tinkling against a rock.

Before he could pull away, I slammed the heavy handle of the machete into his forehead.

The sound was like a hammer hitting a melon. He crumpled to his knees, blood starting to leak from a gash above his eye. He looked up at me, his vision blurring, but he still tried to swing a weak punch at my stomach.

I caught his fist in my palm. I looked down at him, watching the light in his eyes start to flicker and fade.

“You almost had it,” I whispered, “You almost made me feel something.”

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Chapter 157

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I let go of his hand and stepped back. He slumped forward, his face in the dirt, gasping for air.

I raised the machete and swung the blade down. It was a single, clean arc of silver. The metal bit through bone and skin, and then his head was gone, rolling away into the dark weeds.

I didn’t move for a moment. I just watched it stop near a tree root. I felt a small, strange spark of playfulness, the kind of feeling a cat gets with a mouse.

I walked over and nudged the head with the toe of my tactical boot. It was heavy, but it moved easily over the slick

mud.

I started to hum a soft tune. It was an old song my mother used to sing, something sweet and simple that didn’ belong in these woods.

I kicked the head forward. It tumbled through the dirt, leaving a dark trail behind it. I followed it, light on my feet, and trapped it under my boot like a soccer player. I tapped it from my left foot to my right, keeping the rhythm of my humming.

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Chapter 152

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