All is lost.
I don’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore.
My thoughts are filled with hatred and dripping with rage.
I’ve lost my soul.
She took it to the depths of Hell with her and haunts me with images of what could have been.
Sixty lives are mine to take.
Sixty lives stand in the way of my vengeance.
Sixty lives plus one more.
When the last drop of blood falls " mine will be spilled.
Only one person stands in the way.
She doesn’t realize I’ll kill her too.
I don’t own a heart.
And even if I did " I wouldn’t fall prey to its lies again.
I am Chase Abandonato.
Heir to a legacy of betrayal.
And I will kill them all.
Even if it means pointing the gun at myself.
A life for a life.
A soul for a soul.
Now I lay me down to sleep" I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
Blood in. No out.
The next stand alone in the internationally bestselling Eagle Elite Series.
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Noun, plural: a speech or writing in praise of a person or thing " especially a set oration in honor of a deceased person " high praise and or commendation. i.e.: the man refused to praise the dead " after all she was still haunting the living " and for that very reason, there would be no words, for they would be filled with empty lies and angry threats. A Eulogy " she did not deserve.
Blood. Blood. Blood.
It covered my hands.
It surged through my heart.
It dripped from my fingertips onto the concrete floor.
Insanity scratched its way into my psyche as I eyed the door and waited. One heartbeat, two heartbeats, three"
I fired two rounds, and acrid smoke filled the air.
I thought I knew what love was. I was a fucking idiot. Every single bone in my body shuddered with rage, with the need to rip something apart, someone, anyone " all of them. My friends. My brothers. I brought the war to our house, and they would finish me because of it.
I"d thought I loved her.
Our love had been a lie.
Her betrayal my only truth.
Now, I finally knew what love was. I"d seen it, smelled it, tasted it.
And lost it.
I"d fucking lost it.
They would pay. They would all pay.
For taking her.
For turning her against me.
For making me believe that blood was everything, only after mine was spilled.
"I"m not worth dying for," she"d whispered. "But you, Chase Abandonato" you"re worth living for, breathing for, existing for. The only way to break " is from being already broken."
"I am broken."
"But"" She"d placed a hand on my chest, my heart surging to life. "You don"t have to be"."
Two more steps, three. I kicked the door open and fired as bullets whizzed by my ear, and when one struck true, and I collapsed to the ground; I swore up at the barrel of the gun.
I"d choose life.
I wanted life.
They surrounded me.
I wasn"t afraid.
I"d cheat death.
With a bloody smile, I crawled to my knees and yelled, firing rounds into the ceiling surrounding me as my screams of pain filled the room.
As the broken"
By finally shattering"
"You"ve made your choice," he whispered, closing his eyes and turning his gun to my head. "And this was it."
"I don"t choose me." Blood trickled down my chin. "I choose her."
"Chase Abandonato should have been boss. It was his birthright, but he gave it up for his best friend. He"d never been groomed for that position and claimed he didn"t want the responsibility. It wasn"t much later that he"d married Mil De Lange in order to align the De Lange family back into the fold. The problem with that sordid situation was that he thought he"d finally found his purpose in protecting her " and that woman didn"t want what he had to offer." I tapped my thumb against the metal desk. "Can I go now""
" Notes from interview with Agent P, FBI
The sound of someone choking, gasping for air, filled the empty space in the large foyer.
My blurry eyes darted around in a frenzied attempt to find the source, only to realize a few seconds later.
It was me.
I was the one choking.
I was the one sobbing.
I was the one making that bloodcurdling noise as I fell to my knees, then very slowly, pulled out my gun and started shooting.
I took out the walls first. They were her favorite; she"d said she wanted something modern, chic.
"Make it impressive, Chase," she"d said in that sultry temptress voice before sashaying off in her tall red heels.
So I"d done it.
I"d painted the entry walls a blood red.
I"d had no idea at the time that it would be my future, being dipped in that blood, her blood, the blood we shared.
Gone. Gone. Gone.
I fired at the wall, again and again, until a picture, our wedding picture, the only picture in the house, crashed to the floor, shattering glass across the hardwood.
And then I was angry again.
So fucking angry.
She"d wanted those floors, too.
God, was there anything in this house that was me"
For her. I"d done it all for her.
I would have cut out my own heart and handed it to her on a silver platter while I watched the last two thumps give way.
I would have killed hundreds, thousands, millions.
And it would have still never been enough, would it"
Not the house.
Not my money.
Not my love.
I moved to my feet and slowly walked over to the fallen picture, as glass crunched beneath my boots.
She was grinning up at me, even though our wedding day hadn"t been a happy day. And the sick part"
I was looking down at her the way I"d always looked at her, with barely restrained awe at her strength, her beauty, the way she took situations and molded them to her will.
I just never once imagined " I"d end up her victim.