Cruel Intoxication (Underground Kings 4)

I’ll never be able to love again.

“No,” I sob and lay her flat. “No, I refuse.” I pump her chest with my hands and administer CPR. “I won’t live without you.” I breathe into her mouth three times and start compressions.

With eve

ry pump, more blood gushes from the wound in her belly, and I don’t know what to do. My daughter. My baby needs me. My wife needs me. I continue compressions until my arms ache, and the sun is leaving the sky.

I’m swimming in the depths of her blood now.

“Promise me you’ll love again.”

I’ll never love again, but I know I have to live with this emptiness in my chest for the rest of my life. I deserve it. I couldn’t save her.

“I’m so sorry.” I lean against the bed and clutch her body to mine, my hand still against her stomach, holding onto the swell like I did every night. “I love you.”

I sit on the cold hardwood floor, holding my dead wife and daughter, and cry. Painful wails leave my broken chest. I’m sobbing so loud, I don’t even hear the sirens in the distance or the stomping of footsteps coming up the steps.

“Hands in the air! Step away from the body.”

A police officer tries to take my wife away, but I can’t let him take her. She’s mine. I need her. I rear my fist back and punch him in the face, and another cop subdues me while the other pulls Annabeth from my grasp.

“You have the right to remain silent…”

My Miranda rights are read to me, but the words fade in the distance as I watch my wife’s body be laid on a gurney, then zipped up in a black bag.

I know what I’ll do.

I’ll say I murdered her and then my life in prison will be terrible, punishable. I’ll be alive, and I won’t have to worry about breaking my promise. I can’t love behind bars.

Not that I’d want to anyway.

The only thing that mattered to me was taken.

My life is worthless.

And the thought of punishment for not being here for her when she needed me most, that’s intoxicating.

One

Owen

Present Day

The fan blades circle as I lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling. I have one arm behind my head and the other laying across my stomach. I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to look at the time. I’m supposed to be getting ready for our next heist. It’s in a week, and it’s to infiltrate Richard again.

Today, I don’t care.

Tomorrow, I won’t care either.

Today is the day I lost everything. Twenty-two years ago, my life changed for the worst. I’d have a grown daughter right about now if everything went according to plan. I bet she’d be beautiful. She’d have her mother’s dark hair but my backbone. Her mom used to cry over seeing a squirrel cross the road, getting a little close to a tire of someone’s car.

I smile at the memory, and in the next instance, my eyes burn. I’m strong every damn day out of the year, but around this time? I let go. I take my two days, and I mourn. I’ve never gotten over her. Annabeth wasn’t someone anyone could just get over. So I wait, all year by spending my days being a coldhearted, crazy bastard.

But when May 24th comes around, I’m a different man, and I’m okay with that.

I close my eyes and let my mind get lost in the what-ifs.

Annabeth’s hair might have a few strands of gray in it, maybe a few laugh lines around her eyes and mouth because she’d be happy. I’d make her happy; I’d make sure of that. My daughter, Chloe, her mom wanted to name her, she’d be a rebellious girl who gave me headaches and threats of a heart attack more often than not. She’d test me.