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Two Hundred And Fifty
publish date:
2026-03-12 19:00:40Davina’s POV
The guys here are nice, strangely nice, like they’ve been trained not to leer or grab, which is weird for a biker den that smells like whiskey and regret. Knox offers to drive me home since Psycho McBunny took my car keys. Tempting. Real tempting. But that’s exactly what Echo expects, me running like a scared little rabbit. So I stay. Planted on a barstool, sipping the whiskey he tried to con
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Echo POVHe tries to laugh through the ruin of his mouth, a wet, gurgling sound that only makes me hit him harder. I stomp on his hand until every finger snaps like dry twigs under my boot. The scream that rips out of him is pure music, and I laugh, raw, broken, completely fucking insane, because that scream is nothing compared to what he put her through.I haul him up by the throat again and slam him face-first into the wall of photographs, her photographs. Glass frames shatter against his skull, pins tear from the plaster, and I grind his cheek into the jagged edges until blood pours down her smiling faces like tears. I drag the knife up his back in one long, shallow cut from spine to shoulder blade, deep enough to feel him shudder but not deep enough to kill. Not yet.He whimpers, trying to twist away, and I spin him around and drive my fist into his mouth so hard his lips split against
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Echo POVI’m moving before anyone can speak, boots pounding toward the door. The guys are right behind me.“Echo,” Ghost calls, jogging to keep up, “what’s the plan if she chose to be there? If she wants to stay?”I stop dead, turn, and look him in the eye.“Then I burn the whole fucking place down with all of us in it,” I say, every word carved in stone. “If I can’t have her, no fucker can.”No one argues.I swing onto my bike, fire it up, and we ride. The whole way my mind is a war zone. Voices screaming that she’s hurt, that she’s scared, that I failed her, that someone’s touching what’s mine. Someone is going to die tonight. I don’t care if she walked in willingly or not; eight hours silent means she didn’t have a choice
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Echo’s POVSleeping isn’t an option. I fucking tried. I figured if I passed out, tomorrow would come faster, but my brain won’t shut the hell up. It isn’t the beating, although every breath feels like broken glass. It’s pure, electric excitement. I’m like a kid on Christmas Eve who knows the biggest present under the tree is finally his.The guys are still drinking, but it’s light. Most would’ve dragged their asses to bed hours ago, yet they’re camped out here, half to stop me bolting to her place, half because they feel bad for turning me into a human punching bag. I don’t feel bad. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.Knox tops up my glass. I stare at the whiskey like it owes me money.“What time is it?” I ask for the hundredth ti
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Siren’s POVHe’s been following me. The pictures prove it, dozens of them pinned up like a shrine, some from last month, some from weeks before that. My gaze slides back to the corner, to what I thought was a doll.“What have you done, James?” My voice cracks, barely above a whisper.He smiles, soft and proud, like I just complimented his art. “While I was getting this place ready, I kept trying to find a replacement. Someone who felt close enough. But none of them worked. So I started taking the parts that reminded me of you. Hair. Eyes. The curve of a smile. Skin is the hardest to get right, though.”Bile burns my throat. I swallow it down and force my voice steady.“You could have just talked to me.”His face twists. “You threatened me wi
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Echo’s POVBy the time I wake up it’s late afternoon, and I stroll out into the bar feeling like a man who just got away with murder. The guys are already drinking and laughing like a pack of hyenas. I slide into the booth, grab a glass, and pour myself a triple.“You look way too happy with yourself,” Knox says, eyeing me over his beer.“Course I am,” I grin, knocking half the whiskey back in one swallow. “I got to see her, and in less than twenty-four hours she’s all fucking mine again.”Ghost groans loud enough to turn heads. “We were talking. Maybe you should move in with her for a bit?”I stare at them. “What? You trying to stage a fucking coup and steal my club?”“No,” Knox snaps, “it’s just none
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Vesper POVI don’t know who kissed who first. Maybe I started it. Maybe he did. It doesn’t matter.What matters is that his mouth is on mine and I hate how much I want it. I hate the way his hands fit against my hip
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Ghost POVThere’s no fucking way I’m untying her. Not yet. Not when she’s squirming like that, her wrists bound above her, mouth spitting threats even as her eyes keep dropping to my hands. She wants control, but she also wants this.
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Ghost POVHer eyes are locked on the wand in my hand like it’s a weapon, and maybe it is. For her, it’s just as dangerous as a knife because I know exactly what it’ll do to her.“You even try to use that on me,”
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