Moments of Madness (The Hunters #2) Read Online T.L. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: The Hunters Series by T.L. Smith
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
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Chewing the last of what’s in my mouth, I swallow, then answer, “None of your goddamn business, asshole.” I stab another piece of steak, and the lady, Nancy, coughs from behind me as she brings over a glass of lemonade and places it in front of me.

She taps my shoulder to gain my attention. “I’ll have breakfast ready in the morning. Do you have any requests?”

“Pancakes?” I ask, smiling. If he’s going to force me to stay here, I’m going to take advantage. She nods and walks off, leaving me alone with Kyson. I look back at him and find him studying me.

“Do you have any form of manners?” he asks.

I fork up another piece of steak and put it in my mouth, not answering him. I stare at him as I chew. His jaw tics, and then I open my mouth and chew loudly. Now his jaw clenches hard as he stands and stomps off with his plate. I hear him throw it in the sink before he returns to the table—it’s a wonder it didn’t break—as I feel him come up behind me.

“Get up and follow me,” he growls.

I place my fork down and slowly, painfully slowly, take a sip of my lemonade before I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

I feel full and fuck, it feels good.

Standing, I push my seat out and turn to face him. “Lead the way, boss.” I smirk at him.

Kyson goes to speak, but then I guess he thinks better of it and turns to head out of the kitchen. I sigh and go after him, remembering that he is the devil. Just because he gave me food, that does not make him a good guy. I know for sure, he is anything but.

As I walk up the stairs behind him, his round ass fills my view.

He has a nice ass, toned and tight.

This man is good-looking—he may be the most handsome guy I’ve ever seen.

He halts at a door and opens it. I stop next to him, unsure, and he nods to the room beyond. I step in to find a television and a bed. I’m too excited to be sleeping in a bed that looks like it wasn’t pulled from the dump—with fresh sheets—and to see a flatscreen TV that looks brand new, to even realize until it’s too late that he’s shut the door behind me.

Then he locks it from the outside.

And then he leaves.

Running over to it, I bang and scream his name.

Kyson doesn’t come back.

When I see him next, I plan to scratch his eyes out. Villain or not.

Asshole.

Seven

Kyson

That woman screamed for most of the night until I assume she passed out. And not long after that, I did as well.

I unlock the door this morning, expecting to find her still asleep. Instead, I step back as something flies at my face, hitting me right in the eye. And then I’m kicked in the stomach. The feisty bitch goes to kick me again, this time in my junk, but I’m expecting that from her, and catch her leg before she can even attempt to swing it into position. Spinning her around so her back is to me and my arms are wrapped around her waist, holding her arms down, I growl in her ear, “You threw the toilet brush at me.” My eye still stings from the hard hit.

She shrugs. “You locked me in here, asshole.”

“It’s a nice room with a comfortable bed, a TV, and its own bathroom,” I remind her. Her scent registers in my nose, and she smells good. Clean, like some sort of fucking flower. I push her away because I can feel my cock twitch with her being so close.

That can’t happen.

Ever.

“So you think you can lock me up? What world are you living in, asshole?”

“My world. And as far as I’m concerned, you are mine until I can figure out what to do with you.”

“Do with me?” she asks, shock registering on her face as her mouth forms a perfect O.

“Yes. Most people don’t get the choice. We simply kill them.” I turn and leave the bedroom.

“So you’re deciding whether to kill me or not?” she asks, and I can hear the fear in her voice.

“Pretty much. So stop throwing shit at me,” I tell her, walking down the stairs.

Kalilah follows, her footsteps light. She’s still dressed in that god-awful outfit, but at least she smells better now.

“Pancakes, dear,” Nancy chirps, and I shake my head at her. She already has my egg whites and fruit laid out for me. I sit down at the same time Kalilah enters the kitchen. She steps up to Nancy and throws her arms around her. I raise a brow at Nancy, who just hugs her back before Kalilah steps away and comes to the table.


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