Page 151 of Monstrous Urges
I shake my head, my stomach knotting.
“When we rebuilt his island, with the new house, and the new bridge, I made sure that every possible scenario was accounted for. So that what happened here could never fucking happen again.”
He turns to level a cold look at me.
“Just as the first one was, this bridge is rigged to detonate. In case of a breach, if things are critical, someone with the trigger…this trigger…can blow the bridge into the waves below, cutting the island off.”
He holds up something that looks like the remote control for a toy car, with an antenna sticking out the top of it.
“No…” I whisper before I finally find my voice. “NO!” I scream. “NO! HELP!”
Milos shakes his head.
“We’re alone,” he growls quietly. “I run the security for the island. I make the schedules of who guards where, and when.” He turns to look over the waves. “Scream all you like. No one will hear you. We’re alone tonight.”
“Drazen thinks of you as a brother!” I hurl at him. “How?—”
“Drazen is my brother!” he snaps at me. “We became blood the first time we spilled it together. When we fought a war as fucking children together! You’re goddamn right he’s my brother!” he snarls. “Tonight, I’m doing my brother a favor. I’m removing you from his life. I’m cleansing him of the traitorous poison.”
“He’ll kill you,” I hiss, my voice trembling.
Milos shakes his head. “He’ll embrace me, as a brother, after I show him the proof that your death was the last work of Vadik, to hurt Drazen by killing his wife. Drazen gets full justification for killing that snake. And I rid him of you.”
“Please don’t do this,” I choke as my eyes tear. “Please!”
Milos just looks away. “My father was my whole world,” he growls quietly. “And when someone cuts you, you cut them back. Deeper. An eye for an eye.”
“I didn’t kill your father!!!” I scream. “I don’t remember anything about that night!! Even if it was me who tried to drive across that bridge?—”
I choke as Milos surges into me, bringing the blade in his hand to my jugular.
“Please,” he snarls viciously. “Please tell me that it’s his fault. Please try and tell me that him blowing the bridge, and doing his sworn duty, makes it his own doing that he died!”
Tears start to roll down my face.
“Milos,” I whisper hoarsely as he whirls and stalks away angrily. “I’m so, so sorry for what happened to your father. But I didn’t kill?—”
“I know you didn’t.”
I shudder as his eyes narrow to thin, vicious slits as a cold smile curls his mouth.
“Your twin sister did.”
36
TAYLOR
There are some moments in life that are too big to truly grasp. Too real. Losing my great-aunt was one of those moments—something brilliantly, blindingly harsh that is almost impossible to accept as real.
One minute, I had family living. The next, I was truly and utterly alone in the world.
Or maybe I wasn’t.
This, too, is one of those moments.
When those words come out of Milos’ mouth, I hear them, but I don’t really hear them. It’s too big a concept for my mind to accept, too foreign, like someone trying to tell you gravity isn’t real even as you’re falling, or that the tiger isn’t aggressive while it’s lacerating your trachea.
My first reaction is a gut one: he’s obviously lying, and this is all?—