Sick Fux - Page 109

We might not come out of this alive.

But he had to be destroyed. It was the penance he had to pay for all the years of pain he had put us through. For all the years he had kept us apart.

“He has to die,” Dolly said, as if she had heard my thoughts. I nodded and saw a sheen of tears in her eyes. She looked away, wiped her eye, then said, “Ellis must be freed . . . even if Dolly and Rabbit must die.”

“Yeah,” I rasped, trying and failing to imagine a world without her in it.

“Rabbit?” she asked. I lifted my chin. “Where does one go when one dies in Wonderland?”

I smirked, seeing the surge of hope in her face. “To the best part,” I said. “Bright skies. Green fields . . . and lots and lots of tea parties.”

Her face lit up. “With Earl Grey tea, buttered crumpets and strawberry tarts?”

“Of course,” I confirmed. Leaning down, I kissed her lips, and then whispered against them, “Only Earl Grey will ever do.”

I went to pull away, needing to go and face the cunt, to escape the thought of losing Dolly, but she tugged on my arm. She sniffed back a tear. “I love you, Rabbit.” A smile ghosted on her lips. “Maybe even more than Earl Grey tea.”

My heart fucking cracked. “I love you too.” My voice was rough, resonating through my insides. Edging closer, I kissed the back of her hand. “But there is nothing to compare it to, because I have never loved anything else. It has always been you. Only ever you.”

“Rabbit . . .” Dolly whispered, wrapping her arms around my waist. She held on for a few moments, and then she pulled back. Tucking her doll’s head into her belt by its hair, she took her gun in hand. She held it up, slipped her other hand in mine and said, “We’re going to be late.”

On we walked, my cane at the ready. Dolly held her gun up as we approached the dark house. We scoured the ground, waiting for any sign of movement, of threat . . . There was none.

We reached the front door. It was unlocked. We entered the large foyer. It was as deserted as the grounds. Dolly’s hand held mine tight as we searched the rooms. Each one was empty.

A lone door stood at the end of the hallway. We stood before it. Dolly looked to me and cast me a small smile.

A second later I had opened the door. I held my cane up, Dolly readied her gun . . . and sitting before us was large desk, identical to the one in the office of the Earnshaw estate.

And behind that desk was Earnshaw.

He was dressed in a suit. His hair was white where it had once been dark. He was thin where he had once been built . . . and there were two tanks next to him; clear plastic tubes led from one to his nose.

His eyes locked on us, a stand-off.

A handgun lay on his desk, nothing else. Two chairs were positioned opposite him. I darted my eyes around the room.

“Heathan James. I have been expecting you.”

I felt Dolly freeze. I heard her breath stutter into short, quick pants. The King of Hearts looked at her. His face melted, a look of pure adoration gracing his sallow features. “Ellis . . .” he breathed. Tears seemed to build in his eyes. “You look beautiful.” Dolly’s hand began to shake in mine.

“Take a seat.” He gestured with a weak hand to the empty chairs opposite him. My eyes narrowed, waiting for someone to leap out and attack. I expected him to pick up the gun and fire. But his hands lowered unsteadily to his lap, the tubes coming from them tapping on the wooden top.

I took a hesitant step into the office, then another, keeping Dolly behind me in case this was a trap. I expected nothing less. He was smart. Calculated.

I was too.

“Please,” he said, his once deep, commanding voice weak and strained. I sat down. Rather than have Dolly sit on her own, to face the man who should have loved her more than life itself, I pulled her down onto my lap. I kept my cane at my side, ready to fire when the time came. I eyed Dolly’s gun. She had it braced for action.

Then I studied Earnshaw. Bags of medicine hung at his side on metal poles. His skin was pale, and he wheezed when he breathed.

“Lung cancer,” he informed me, clearly noting my interest.

I glared at the fucker, not giving two shits.

“Turns out all those cigars I smoked were bad for me.” He chuckled, then coughed.

I sneered.

Dolly remained silent.

Still.

Earnshaw shifted in his seat, a move that made him hiss in pain. His cheeks reddened with the effort. When he reached the position he wanted, he met my eyes. “They think I only have a couple of months left.”

Tags: Tillie Cole Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024