The Bad Things (Book 5)

Chapter 13. Unarmed

"Just let go of her," I said as I approached Harold with caution. "It's not her that you want. It's me. So, take me. I'm unarmed."

Harold smirked at me.

Alana gritted her teeth when he pulled her head back by her hair. Harold had a knife to her throat. Alana's eyes didn't give away any type of fear.

"Just do it, you stupid piece of shit. You're surrounded by Kings. You're never getting out of here alive," Alana spat.

"Shut up, Alana," I snapped. My eyes locked with Harold again. "Let go of my sister. This is between us. Fight me like a real man."

Harold sneered at the challenge in my voice, but he kept his hold on Alana.

"Come on, old man," I said and smirked. I recalled how much Harold hated being called that. He beat the hell out of me at the age of ten for calling him old man. "Are you scared? You do look a little bent out of shape. I, on the other hand, am in great shape. I'm going to kill you."

Harold laughed. "Making threats at me, boy, really?"

"It's a promise," I vowed as I stepped closer. "See, I've been waiting. . ." I trailed off. "A very long time for this moment, and I won't let it go to waste."

Whatever Harold saw in my eyes made him swallow hard. Harold lowered the knife and released Alana. Alana sprinted across the room.

My eyes flickered to Irena, who had a gun pointed at one of the men that worked in the foyer. "I should have known," I said and shrugged. "You rarely kept in touch. It made no sense for you not to come to me, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt." I turned back to Harold with pursed lips. "Does Iris know that you were bedding her sister or what?"

"She wasn't half the woman that I am," Irena sneered. "Harold and I fell in love a long time ago. He killed her and the kids and pinned it on you so we could be happy, but that stupid bitch woke up from her coma. Never did I think she would either. I had to go back to playing her loving and caring sister."

"So, you let her stay with you to turn around and kill her," I spat.

"Harold did it, but I planned it," Irena said.

"You two are fucked in the head." My eyes locked with Harold's eyes. "Keep that knife. You're going to need it."

Two of the Aryan brothers grabbed ahold of me. One on each side of my arm. Irena threw her head back and laughed. I shoved one of them off of me at the same time that Harold came at me with the knife.

Harold jabbed the knife toward my stomach, but I lurched back. My hand caught Harold's wrist. Harold held the blade, and I forced his hand toward the other guy that held onto me—it happened so fast that the man had no time to react. The knife entered the man's eye socket. The man screamed in pain, and Harold's eyes widened.

The perfect opportunity presented itself for me to take the knife from Harold, but I didn't. I didn't need the knife to kill Harold. Harold screamed in rage as he stared at the tip of the knife with blood on it.

A smirk played on my lips, and my eyebrows wiggled. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to fight?"

Harold charged me, and at the last second, I spun out of his way. My hands gripped the back of his shirt, and I threw him over the pool table. Harold rolled over the top of the table and hit the floor, which knocked down the pool sticks, and it gave me a good idea.