Sell My Soul (Sixty Days 1)

It was only the butt ugly asshole on his knees who had something to say about it.

“Her sister still owes us fucking money!” he said. “I don’t give a shit who you’re connected to. We’ll be getting what’s owed.”

“That’s between you and her fucking sister,” I said. “But this girl here belongs to me. Touch her again and it’ll be the last fucking thing you ever fucking do.”

I didn’t hesitate to turn my back.

Didn’t give a shit for pacing away and dragging Paige with me without a second glance.

She was whimpering as we exited the alleyway, straining to meet my eyes as I shunted her along to the car parked up outside the garages.

“Thank you,” she bleated. “Thank you so much for saving me!”

And that’s when I saw fucking red.

I slammed her into the side of my car with such force that she likely wished she was still in the fucking alley with those dickheads.

My hand was on her throat before she could stumble, my face in hers with eyes on fucking fire as I channelled the rage and cut off her oxygen.

“I’m sorry,” she spluttered. “Believe me, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop. She’s my sister.”

“Sorry won’t cut it in a million fucking years,” I snarled and loosed my grip.

She nodded. She actually fucking nodded. Sucking in breath through a raspy windpipe as she recovered.

And then she started again.

“It’s love,” she whispered. “Love makes us do crazy things. Love made me walk into that alleyway and take what was coming. Love made me put it all on the line to save her.”

If I believed in love for one fucking millisecond, I could’ve said the same fucking thing about me.

But I didn’t believe in love.

Didn’t believe in one fucking sliver of it.

I opened the passenger door and threw the girl in there, threw her bag in after and slammed the door closed with such force that the noise echoed like thunder around the garages.

I daren’t even look at my buzzing fucking phone as I threw myself behind the wheel and fired up the engine.

“I mean it,” she said from the backseat. “I really am sorry.”

“Oh, you fucking will be,” I snarled right back at her.

“Drop me anywhere,” she blurted. “I can walk back in a few hours.”

I laughed.

How I fucking laughed.

“I won’t be fucking dropping you anywhere,” I told her. “Your sixty days begin right here. Right fucking now. Prepare to pay your fucking dues.”

“But my sister…” she began.

“Your sister can go fuck herself, Miss Emmerson,” I snarled. “Believe me, you have bigger things to worry about.”

She didn’t argue. Didn’t make a sound, in fact, just buckled herself in for the ride with trembling fingers.

Just as well the girl didn’t know what was coming.

She’d wish she’d have stayed in that fucking alleyway when I was fucking done with her.END OF PART ONE