by Bella J
Granite and Dutch laughed, and I glared holes into his forehead. But Manic ignored my stares of hell. “So? Have you decided?”
“I have. But it doesn’t seem like anyone wants to accept my answer.”
Granite placed his arms on the table. “As long as the answer is no, it will be ignored, yes.”
I scoffed. “And they call this a free country.”
“Listen, Onyx,” Granite started with his time-to-get-serious voice, “we need to work on a plan to get this crew where it was before Slither fucked with us. And we can’t do that until this final decision has been made.”
I refused to look at him, rather staring at the label on my beer bottle, which I was slowly pulling off at the edges. “I know,” I replied, clipped. Even though taking Granite’s place was the last fucking thing I wanted to do, I wasn’t an idiot. I knew we were running out of time, and some of us were running out of patience. “I still think it’s bullshit that you need to keep up your part of the deal.”
Granite shrugged as he sat back. “What is a man if his word ain’t solid?”
“I’ll tell you what he’s not. Stupid.”
Manic laughed. “That’s a good one.”
“Shut up,” Granite and I said in unison, and the guy actually seemed offended for a second.
“Fine,” he got up and grabbed his beer, “I’ll go keep the pretty lady over there company. She looks like she could appreciate a big old scar.”
I jumped up and glowered at him. “Are you serious right now?”
Dutch held a palm in front of his face as he snickered, and Manic smiled, slapping his hands on my shoulders. “Dude, chill. I promise I won’t break her…much.”
Everyone erupted in laughter while I was the only one about to have an aneurysm.
“The guy’s fucking with you, little brother.”
I turned and saw Manic leaning on the bar beside Wraith, smiling like a fucking male stripper with super white teeth. “Do you see that?” I looked at Granite, but my brother just kept laughing.
I pursed my lips, biting the inside of my cheek as I took my seat. “I guess the joke’s on me today, is it?”
Dutch slapped me on the shoulder. “It sure is.”
“Ha, fucking ha. I ain’t coming on these runs until Ink drags his ass with us. At least then you’ll be picking at his ass and not mine.”
Everyone continued to laugh, and I glanced over my shoulder at Wraith. Manic shot me a coy smile, going the extra distance to piss on my goddamn battery. God, you had to love these fuckers.
“I’m gonna go get us a round of bourbon,” Granite said as he got up and sauntered to the bar.
I ran a hand through my hair and let out a breath. “God, this is bullshit.”
Dutch lit a cigarette. “Listen, man, I get why you’re doubting. Granite has big boots to fill, and you’re afraid you won’t be able to man up. But you need to give yourself some credit. Both of you have Stone’s blood running through your veins.”
“I’m not like my brother.”
“And you don’t have to be. You don’t have to be Granite to be a good president, Onyx.”
I pulled a palm down my face, feeling like I had the fucking world on my shoulders. “You don’t get it. No one gets it. I’m the irresponsible one. The one who needs a fucking leash. Put me in that motherfucking chair, then who’s gonna keep me in check?”
Dutch stared at me with a half-smile on his face. “You are.”
“What?”
He tapped his finger against the cold beer in front of him. “I get it. It’s easier to ignore the rules than it is to enforce them. Right now, you have your brother to worry about your actions. But if you’re president, you’ll no longer have that luxury.”
I pulled my mouth in a hard line, and Dutch smirked. “Besides thinking you won’t be able to fill Granite’s shoes, you’re afraid to grow up.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means the day you got the VP tag, you made an oath to this club to step in as leader when we needed you to. And right now, we need you to, Onyx. Granite needs you to. Do not think for one second this is easy for your brother, to step down. But he’s doing what needs to be done for everyone he cares about. Now you gotta do the same.”
I shook my head, pursing my lips. “This is not how it was supposed to be.”
“Nothing ever is. Nothing ever works out the way we planned. All I’m saying, Granite has Alyx now. The Kings have this war with the Pythons. Don’t make Granite choose between this club and the woman he loves, because he won’t choose us, I can promise you that.”
“I know.” I clutched my fists in front of my mouth. “I fucking know that.”
Dutch leaned forward, eyes boring into mine. “Then grow the fuck up and do the right thing.”
Alyx returned just as Granite placed a tray of bourbon shots on the table. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer and kissing her like they weren’t standing in a bar surrounded by a fuck-load of people.
I cleared my throat. “Ahem…put your dick back in your pants, please.”
“Why?” Granite looked over my shoulder toward the bar. “Manic seems to have his out.”
“Oh, my God,” I muttered. “I’m gonna kick all your asses.”
Chapter Six
Onyx
The day I accepted the VP tag, I didn’t think it would ever come to this. I had always been so sure I’d take my last breath long before my brother did. But I never could have predicted things would work out the way they did. For the first time, I was forced to think about how it would be to lead this crew. How it would be to sit in the president’s chair and hold the future of the Kings in my hands. It wasn’t a responsibility I ever thought would be mine.
I sat behind the wheel of the black cage. Whenever we had this kind of meeting, we made sure we pitched with four wheels. It was easier to get away if shit should hit the fan.
Ink was sitting in the passenger seat, with Granite, Dutch, and Manic in the back.
The sun had started to set on the horizon, but the pretty pinks and yellows did nothing to lessen the dark foreboding I felt in my bones.
“Something doesn’t feel right.” I tapped my finger against the wheel.
Ink stared out the window. “Yeah, I feel ya. But we have no choice. We need the business.”
“Yo, Granite,” I called to the back. “What time did they say they’d be here?”
“Seven.”
I glanced at the clock on the dash. Ten past seven. I searched the area, but there was no sign of them. “Something’s not right. They’re never late.”
My leg started to twitch, juddering up and down to the same rhythm my finger continued to tap on the wheel. The prickle of warning I felt a few seconds ago was making its way to the center of my stomach.
“Granite—”
“Let’s give them five more minutes.”
“In the last ten years, they have been punctual as fuck. I’m telling you, man, something ain’t right.”
“Five more minutes, Onyx.”
I mumbled under my breath, swiping my fingers across my beard. I became increasingly aware of the gun at my side and the blade in my boot. Ink was packing; I knew that for sure. He never left the compound without at least two guns and a knife.
Abruptly, Ink sat up straight. “You hear that?”
I tilted my head to the side, listening.
“Harleys?”
“Yup, those are definitely hogs.”
Ink looked at me, his face red with warning. “Since when do the Sixes roll with hogs?”
My heart raced. “Since never. Granite, we got company, and it’s safe to say it ain’t good.”
“I hear it.” Granite, Dutch, and Manic were out the back door before I could even open mine.
Ink launched out, gun in hand and slowly walking in the direction from where the hogs were coming.
As I rounded the cage, I saw the Harleys appear in the distance. Th
ey were slowly coming toward us, and I already knew it was them. The Pythons. I could feel it in my blood, the way it singed the inside of my veins. It was the same feeling I got the night my father died. It was an ominous feeling that ignited a certain caveat that had my every instinct flared and prepared for onslaught. Unfortunately, that night, the second I saw my father go down, every instinct I had to kill and maim turned into a compulsion to protect and save. But I couldn’t protect him. I couldn’t save him.
None of us could.
“It’s the Pythons,” Ink said with a low sneer, yet sounding oddly excited about it.
“Everyone, stay cool.” Granite held up his hand, cautioning us.
My heart started to pound inside my chest, adrenaline washing through every nerve ending. Even my fingers became itchy, the gun at my side screaming to be pointed at a fucking Python.. Slither might think he had the Kings by the balls, but I wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet in his skull right after I carved his heart out and fed it to the fucking rats.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Ink’s fists clench at his sides. Anger vibrated off him in waves. Toxic. Deadly. Every empath’s motherfucking nightmare.
Dutch slid in next to Ink, while Granite moved to the front. Manic was standing at my right, a huge smile on his face. I could swear to God, the day World War Three should break out, this man would be manically and ecstatically fucking happy. Psycho.
There were about six or seven hogs coming our way, cruising toward us like arrogant assholes, as if they owned the fucking world. The loud thunder of their engines rumbled, slamming against the concrete slabs holding the bridge above us.
Manic loosened his shoulders, leaning his head from side to side. “I knew my spidey senses were tingling.”
I glowered at him. “What the fuck, man?”
“What?”
“You need to lay off the fucking superhero movies. Seriously.”
“Would you two shut up?” Ink scolded, and the tattoos on the side of his face seemed even creepier than the scar on Manic’s.
I stood a step behind Granite, arms crossed in front of my chest. I was about the only guy who matched Granite in length. We got our over six feet size from our dad. Big, butch, and brutal.
The fleet of Pythons came to a stop, revving their engines in a bid to add some good measure of intimidation. But they didn’t intimidate us. They only enticed us with the prospects of painting the asphalt with the blood seeping from their broken skulls.
Slither was first to take off his lid, slowly getting off his bike. “Well, well, well.” He inhaled deeply, shoulders rising as he took in the long breath of air.
Melodramatic asshole.
“Do I smell betrayal?” His freaky as fuck eyes cut straight to Granite, and I tensed, ready to do some target practice on his fucking forehead. Granite remained stoic, and Slither sauntered closer with his tribe of snakes close behind. “I thought we had a deal.”
“We do,” Granite replied, clipped.
Slither tsk’d. “Do you take me for a fool?”
“A fool, no.” I glared at him. “An ugly motherfucker, yes.”
Slither shot me a sideways glance, his expression taunting me with blatant disinterest. Granite was the one he wanted to crack, not me. With a simple look my way, he made it clear he didn’t deem me a threat, not like he did Granite. Big mistake.
“You should get a leash on your little brother, Granite.” Slither pulled his palm over his clean-shaved head. “Before it gets infected and goes rabid.”
It was instinct. It overwrote every logical thought, and I reacted by wanting to launch forward, already envisioning my hands coated with the fucker’s blood. But Granite reached out, slamming an arm in my chest, cutting me off and stopping me from attacking. I hissed and glared at Slither. “The day will come when I bathe in your fucking blood, I swear it.”
Slither’s brows almost touched his hairline, his palm placed on his chest. “Such aggression. It’s hurting my feelings.”
“When I’m done with you, it will be much more than just your feelings hurting.” The threat hung between us, thick and toxic, and I wanted it to explode. I wanted it to take control of us so we could end this once and for all. “You sure have a big mouth when all of us here have at least one reason for wanting to slice your throat.”
Slither laughed, and his legion of delinquents joined in. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, the smell of nicotine and deadly tension wafting over us.
The cloud of smoke he blew out drifted away in the breeze, and I stood there hoping he would choke on his next goddamn breath.
“I thought we had a deal.” He looked straight at Granite. “I tell you where your girl is, and you stay out of my fucking business. Was that not our deal?”
“It was.” Granite finally removed his arm from my chest, stepping closer to Slither. “We have a deal.”
“Then why go behind my back, setting up a meeting with my buyers?”
“Buyers you stole from us by enforcing a deal that, in my opinion, means nothing,” I spat. “This fucking deal you’re referring to would never have happened if you didn’t kidnap Alyx in the first place.” I was ready to rip his fucking head off, practically smelling the stench of his rotting corpse. There was no word in the dictionary that could aptly relay the magnitude of my hate toward this motherfucking demon.
Slither shrugged. “What can I say? My plan was brilliant.”
“Your plan will soon bite you in the ass.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Sure is.”
He smiled, his split tongue darting out of his mouth, the tentacles twisting and curving like devil fingers. “Oh, I doubt you’ll ever have the balls to make good on that threat…little brother.”
More than anything, I wanted to wipe that mocking look from his face by peeling his skin off, one tattooed snake scale at a time.
He turned his attention to Granite. “But maybe the little brother will do better at keeping his word.”
“Fuck off, Slither,” Granite snarled. “You’re not exactly the one who can take the moral high ground around here.”
“True.” He flicked his cigarette butt a few feet away. “But I’m not you.” He lurked closer, menace oozing out of him like pus, his existence as vile as a septic wound. “I’m not the notorious Granite, president of the American Street Kings. The man known for his underhanded dealings with the rich and his noble acts toward the poor. You have a reputation to uphold, people to impress. Me? I don’t give a fuck what people think about me. And the best part? I don’t have to give a fuck because no one expects me to be,” he licked his lips, “a man of my word...like you.”
Dutch moved closer, Ink and Manic now flanking us. Everyone’s instinct was on high alert, my senses tuned in to every threat. Hate and rage pulsed between us and them like the heartbeat of hell. We were on the brink of cold-blooded carnage, and I desperately wanted to be tipped over that edge so I could unleash the bloodlust that seethed inside me.
Granite stood strong, the epitome of cool, calm, and collected. It was something he did well, pretending to be unfazed and settled in extreme circumstances. But I knew all too well what kind of turbulence stormed under that cool façade. Granite was two seconds away from ripping Slither’s tongue out.
Slither cocked his head, never taking his eyes off Granite. “What’s the matter, big man? Cat caught your tongue?” His split tongue slithered out of his mouth, moving around like insect feelers in the fucking wind.
Granite took an intimidating step forward, close enough for Slither to drive a blade in his abdomen if he wanted to. But Granite held the tension, like a pebble in the palm of his hand, controlling where it would land next.
“You might think you have the upper hand, Slither. That you’re one step ahead of us. But that ill-placed confidence of yours will be your downfall.”
“Listen to that. Two threats in one day.” Slither grinned, amusement sticking to his face like dirt. “Must be my l
ucky day.”
“You bet your ass it is,” Ink interrupted. “If it wasn’t, I’d be standing with your spine in my hand right about now.”
Slither looked his way. “Such hatred.” He closed his eyes and let out a moan. “Hmmm. It’s giving me a hard-on.”
“Fuck you,” Ink spat, his entire body shaking.
“I know you have more than enough reason to want my head on a spike.” He shrugged. “After all, I did ruin one of your own. Or was it two?” He feigned a thoughtful look. “Well, three if you count the girl with the unicorn pussy. What’s her name again? Magenta? No. Indigo—”
“Neon, you sick fuck!” Ink’s words practically bled out of his mouth.
“Oh, yes.” He pinned his stare on Ink. “Neon.”
“I’m going to gut you, I swear to God.”
Slither smirked, his men moving closer. “You know, some nights when I can’t sleep, I can still hear her screams. Her pleas. The way she begged for us to stop. I’ll tell you, I’ve never enjoyed jerking off as much as I do when I think of her blood coating my cock.”
Ink roared, and by the time Dutch and I reacted, it was too late. Ink launched at Slither, a balled fist in the air, and then the crack of bone against bone.
Chaos erupted, the sounds of grunts and curses becoming the prelude of guaranteed carnage. Ink’s face was that of pure hatred, rage, an all-consuming frenzy of a need to spill blood. The man was unstoppable as he hit Slither one punch after the other, a scream ripping from his throat.
While Dutch tried to pull Ink off Slither, I reached for my gun, placing my finger on the trigger. But there was no way I’d be able to aim and shoot without risking one of our guys. Not even I was that good a shot.
Granite tried to reach for Ink, but some motherfucker came from the side and went straight for him. With my gun in hand, I reacted and launched forward, planting the back of my gun right in the guy’s face, and he stumbled back.
Two more men rushed toward us, but I was ready and ducked when one of them swung his fist, aiming for my face. As I came back up, I knocked the fucker out by connecting my fist with his jaw from below, his neck craning back as he fell.