Ballerina’s Flesh Gallery - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

For a heartbeat, the knife trembled in my hand—who the hell was the real threat here?
The man let out a wheezing chuckle that reeked of insanity and smug superiority. "Here to play janitor, are you... Dad?"
Son of a bitch. They were family.
Richard Melville's expression turned stormy as he wheeled on me. "Principal Wang put you on this little fact-finding mission, didn't he? You ever consider some graves shouldn't be dug up?"
I set my teeth hard enough to crack enamel, giving him silence as my answer.
Emily's choked whimpers and those terrified doe eyes hit me like a gut punch.
I sank my teeth into my bottom lip until copper flooded my tongue—almost bit clean through the damn thing.
When my knife arm began to drop, Richard's smirk widened as he closed the distance. "Finally using that brain. Walk away now. The girl's staying. Don't lose sleep—I'll tidy this up nice and neat."
I kept my gaze down, voice barely above a growl. "Define 'tidy.' Molest her first, then make her disappear?"
Richard paused, rubbing his palms together like a hungry housefly. "Now, now. As chairman, I ensure resolutions are... mutually beneficial. You'd do well to trust me."
"Prove it," I spat. "Let her walk out first. Then I'm gone."
Richard heaved a theatrical sigh. "We're simply containing her outbursts. My boy's bleeding out—one more well-placed kick from her and he's a corpse."
I barked out a laugh. "Crystal clear. I'm out."
Transferring the blade to my left hand, I turned toward the exit.
Richard tracked me with the pleased stare of a cat watching a mouse. "Smart man. Count this as charity. Under different circumstances—"
His gloating got cut off by a meaty thump resonating through the room.
Before the bastard could blink, I hip-tossed him over my shoulder like a damn judo throw.
Christ, another twenty pounds and that move wouldn't have worked.
No victory lap. The second Richard's spine hit hardwood, I twisted and drove my boot into his beer gut. Using the footstool as a launchpad, I catapulted at Lucas.
Sunlight flashed along my blade as I dove.
Lucas reacted on instinct—yanking Emily against him like a living buckler.
Exactly what I wanted.
I didn't brake. Letting momentum take the wheel, I plowed into them both.
When Lucas went down, my arm became a steel band around Emily's ribs. One brutal wrench tore her from his grip.