Blood Bound (Sinful Delights #3) Read Online Odessa Hywell

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Sinful Delights Series by Odessa Hywell
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
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Expert:

Marcus Malnar—head asshole of the Malnar Family—has spent a lifetime stepping over the bloody remains of his enemies. Fulfilling his purpose is the only thing that matters; nothing can stand between him and his goals. Except his nephew.
Despite what everyone says, Holden Malnar isn’t spoiled. If you ask him. He’s a pint-sized bundle of insanity with a pain kink, barely held together by a straitjacket, and he owes everything to his uncle. There’s no limit to what he’s willing to do for the man. No. Limit.
Loyalty means everything. Betrayal is a bitter pill to swallow. When Marcus and Holden have to rely on one another to weed out the traitor attempting to destroy their Family, there is no fighting the inevitable.

Full Book:

WEDNESDAY ADDAMS [THE ADDAMS FAMILY TV SERIES 1964-1966]

My fingers tighten around the kitchen knife as I slice through an onion. Vomit crawls up the back of my throat and I swallow it before it spews out across the cutting board. From the living room, I can hear whispering—my parents and them . I’ve never understood why they do that—whisper. It’s not as if I don’t know what’s being discussed. By now, how can I not?

Amanda is crying at the stove as she helps prepare dinner, silent sobs shaking her small frame. I glare at her back as she stirs the hamburger meat, spilling chunks over the edge of the pan.

Why is she crying? It’s not as if those men are here for her. They don’t like girls—not her age, anyway. Not developed enough for their taste. But I am, apparently.

I’m younger than her. By a whole seventeen months.

Sick bastards. Fucking perverts.

“The onions are done,” I tell Amanda.

She nods and drags her arm over her face. “I’m ready for them.”

Every step away from the corner and toward the stove brings me one moment closer to them, to what they have planned. But worst of all—worse than the new addition tonight, which is always a fucking nightmare—is him. Randall Perkins.

Once dinner is finished, after we’ve all eaten . . .

My hands shake and the onions bounce alongside the knife. Not again. Never again. I’ll die before I endure another night with him—his rough hands taking and taking and taking until there is nothing left to take. Everything will end if I’m dead. He won’t be able to take anything else from me then. Or if he’s dead. If they’re all dead, because Randall may be the first—and he may be the worst of them, especially when he brings a friend like tonight—but he’s not the only man my parents whisper with when they need to pay bills or feed their habit.

I hold the board out and Amanda takes it, dumping the onions in with the hamburger meat before she nudges my side. My gaze lifts to her tear-stained face and she tips her head towards the discarded hamburger package. A small chunk is left there, nothing of consequence but it’s a shaky lifeboat when we’re both drowning because if I eat it, there’s a pretty good chance I’ll get food poisoning.

Her eyes beg me to do it.

Randall will leave if I’m too sick to struggle against the bindings. He’ll be back though, probably with his friend in tow. He always comes back, and it’ll be worse when he does.

“How much longer?” Father snaps from the doorway. Amanda curls into herself as a fresh wave of tears runs from her bloodshot eyes. “I asked you a question, girl!”

“N-Not much longer,” she chokes out, her gaze slipping to the raw meat.

She may not be to Randall’s taste, but our father likes her just fine. He won’t care if she’s sick, though. So long as he gets what he’s after.

He has to die first. But he can’t see it coming. If he does, I’ll never be able to overpower him. He’s bigger than me, and ten times meaner—like an angry snake.

Then Randall. He’ll be easy—he’s weak, not much of a fighter. His friend is a wildcard, though.

It’s a chance I’ll just have to take.

“Get it done. Company don’t like to be kept waiting,” he snarls from right behind us. I jump when his greasy fingers curl around the back of my neck. They dig in and I clench my jaw against the pain. “And you—” He gives me a hard shake. “If Randall and his friend have a hard time with you, you’ll spend your night in the basement. Understand, boy?”

Fuck you.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

“Fuck you! ” The words explode from somewhere deep inside of me as I turn, snatching the knife off the counter as I do. I plunge it into his stomach until the blade is buried as deep as possible in his thin body. His mouth opens in a silent scream as his eyes widen and he stumbles away.

His mouth opens and closes. I can read the betrayal in his eyes and my name on his lips.


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