Read Online Unbreakable: Unrequited Part Two (Fallen Aces MC Book 2) by Max Henry - Free Book Online

similarity, and the creeping sense of déjà vu are too much. I stand abruptly and inadvertently pull both of their attentions toward me.
    “Elena?” Maria turns to console me, but I back away.
    “No. I need to be alone.” Her exasperated sigh is audible behind me as I bolt from the galley and run toward my room.
    I miss King. I need King. My world is a waking nightmare, and I need his love to ground me and balance the hate that swirls through my soul. I hate Carlos. I hate what he’s done. And I hate myself for not being stronger to stop it. But even more, I hate the fact that I see us, King and I, in the way Sully comforted Maria. I’m jealous that she’ll probably have a happy ending with the man who loves her when I don’t think that kind of future will ever be a real option for me.
    “Why the hurry?”
    I skid to a halt at the base of the stairs and fight back the gag that clogs my throat when I see the pinkish stain left behind on the tiles by the quick cleanup job. “Let me be, please.”
    “Where’s the fun in that?” Carlos muses.
    I spin around, using the banister to hold myself upright. The sight of him alone is enough to have me fighting the desire to crumple into a dry-retching heap. “Why?”
    “Jesus, Elena. You think I’d let that bitch get one over on me by dying without giving me anything of use?”
    “You have me,” I counter pathetically. “Is that not enough?”
    “I said anything of use. ” He waves a dismissive hand my way and bends at the waist to inspect the stain.
    I could kick him in the face at this distance. “Do you have a heart?” I murmur.
    He chuckles and straightens out to pin me with those stormy gray-blue irises. “I think I used to, but then again, it’s been a while since I truly cared about anything to remember how it feels, so I may be mistaken.”
    “Does it make you feel good? Hurting people for your sick amusement?”
    He shakes his head, jamming both hands in his pockets. “You misunderstand. I don’t do it because I like to hurt you. It’s not satisfying or fun, harming people in my life. It’s simply therapeutic.”
    I cock an eyebrow at him, wondering how in the hell that’s supposed to make me feel any better about his disposition. “It’s still not okay.”
    “No, it’s not.” He slams a closed fist to his chest. “But if my heart is this black and rotted, then why the fuck shouldn’t everyone else have to feel the same way?”
    “You’re deflecting,” I whisper.
    He nods. “Although it doesn’t seem to make the ache any lesser. It does, however, make it more bearable.” Carlos absently picks at a seam on his pant leg, frowning at whatever courses through his mind.
    He’s crazy. There’s no other way to explain it. He thinks by making everyone around him suffer it somehow averages out his world so that his own pain doesn’t appear so bad. What the fuck has he got to hurt about? “I still don’t understand one thing, though,” I say.
    “May as well ask me now,” he sneers, “since we’re having such a civil conversation for a change.”
    I adjust the skewed scarf over my neck and ensure I stay front-on to him so any swell isn’t obvious. “What pain do you have to endure? You live in luxury, you rule with fear, and you get what you want when you want because you can pay for it to be that way. None of this looks like suffering to me.”
    He surprises me by tugging up the legs of his suit pants and taking a seat on the second to last step. “The day I graduated as a police officer was the first real defining moment in my life.” He stares off at the closed front doors. “I wanted to be the good guy from as young as I can remember. I had this toy gun—you know the ones, made to look like a cowboy’s pistol with the wood handle and all.” He looks to me for understanding, so I nod. “I ran around the house and shot the imaginary bad guys with it, protected my parents and our two cats from harm. Thought I was the