by Bella J
“Jesus, woman. Calm the fuck down.”
“I said get out!” Neon’s voice cracked down the hall, followed by the slam of the door.
I snickered as Ink came walking toward me. “Where’s a fucking horse tranquilizer when you need one?”
“Why do you keep on doing this to yourself?”
“Doing what?”
We sauntered into the kitchen and out the back door. “Neon doesn’t want you, man.”
“Yeah, she does. She just doesn’t know it yet.”
All I could do was shake my head. The guy was a fucking masochist and refused to take no for an answer when it came to that woman.
As we passed Granite and Alyx’s room, Granite came out and shut the door. “Onyx, wait up.” He shot Ink a look that said, ‘fuck off, please.’
Now that message Ink got loud and clear. Getting hit in the face by a boot was too subtle, apparently.
Granite turned to face me. “You ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Listen, I’ll admit there was a time when I doubted your place as VP. But Dad believed in you, and now…so do I.” He placed his hands on my shoulders, trying his best to give me the most reassuring look any brother could give. “You can do this. And I’m proud to see you step up like this to protect the crew.”
“Thanks, man.”
“I got your back.”
The bedroom door opened, and Alyx peeked out. “Everything okay?”
“Yup,” Granite assured her. “Be back in a few.”
She nodded then looked at me, smiling. Alyx was no longer sickeningly thin and pale. Ever since the whole Tanit ordeal, Alyx had become stronger, and it was good to see her take care of herself. It was good to see her with Granite, seeing how happy she made him. Not a single one of us could blame Granite for wanting to protect her. She was worth protecting.
I shot her a knowing look and walked off, following Granite across the outer corridor.
“I don’t suppose I get your mini outside apartment now, do I?”
“Not a chance.”
Dutch was waiting outside the door for us, smoking a cigarette. “We have a problem.”
Granite paused. “What is it?”
“There’s a new drug going around on the street.”
I scowled. “Snow?”
Dutch shrugged. “That’s what everyone’s calling it. But three people died the last two weeks, and twelve have been hospitalized—that we know of.”
Granite swept his fingers through his hair, pacing up and down while cursing. “Snow belongs to the Sixes on these streets. But their shit’s always been pure. If it’s killing people, it’s mixed.”
“The Sixes aren’t behind this,” I continued with his thought. I looked at Granite. “But I think we know who is.”
Dutch didn’t reply. But the way he stared at Granite with fury burning in his eyes, lips pulled taut, chest rising and falling like he had the devil’s anger burning in his lungs—we knew who it was.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I threw my hand in the air before placing it on my head, crouching down.
Dutch crossed his arms. “We have to end this.”
“And we will.” Granite stopped pacing, his gaze cutting to mine. “We will end this.”
I bit my lip, a sour taste lingering in the back of my mouth. This vortex of hell was only getting bigger and bigger, and Slither was sucking in victim after victim. But I’d be damned if I’d let him destroy us.
“Come on.” Granite gestured toward the door, and Dutch followed.
“By the way, what happened to Ink’s face?”
“Two words. Neon. Boot.”
Dutch snorted then followed us inside.
Manic and Ink were already seated, and I walked right up to my spot when Granite cleared his throat, glancing from me to his chair.
“No, man. Not yet.” I shook my head lightly, and Granite got the message.
The door swung closed behind Dutch, and when all of us took our seats, a heavy silence fell over us. No one wanted this. Everyone knew this wasn’t the natural order to do things. But it had to be done. I realized this yesterday when I saw Slither beating Ink, when I got so close to losing someone else I cared about. I couldn’t let that happen.
The gavel was on the table, to Granite’s right. It only got used when really important decisions were made—lifechanging decisions. Other crews used their gavels with every meeting. But not us. To us, it was fucking sacred, the holy grail when it came down to passing our laws. The last time we used it was when we made the decision as a crew to kidnap Alyx and frame the Pythons. That was months ago when Granite hit the gavel, sealing Alyx’s fate…and ours.
When everyone was seated, Granite cleared his throat. “I don’t think a long speech is necessary. We all know why we’re here and what needs to be done.”
No one responded. Not even a nod.
“None of us knows our fate. None of us knows what the future holds. But what we do know, the Pythons need to be stopped. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do, with Onyx as our new president.”
I gulped. It was a hard pill to swallow, thinking that I was about to dethrone my brother from a chair he so rightfully deserved. But I understood why it needed to be done. The Kings had been under attack for fuck knew how long now, and all my brother had left was his honor, and Alyx. He would protect Alyx, and I would step up to protect his honor.
Ink scratched his beard. “Who’ll be the new the VP, then?”
“Granite, obviously,” I stated.
“No.”
I looked at Granite, all sorts of confused. “What do you mean, no?”
“I’m stepping down, Onyx. That means I’m not going to sit in this chair again. Ever.”
“That’s bullshit!”
“Part of a VP’s job is to step in and make decisions when the president isn’t around. I can’t do that. I need to distance myself from a leading role in this crew.”
“Oh, my God.” I pulled my palm down my face, almost smiling at how fucked up all of this was. “I can’t believe this. You don’t even want to be VP?”
“It’s not about what I want. It’s about making the best decision for this crew, which is why I’ll be nominating Dutch for VP.”
Dutch blinked with a look of surprise on his face. “What?”
Granite nodded. “If you take the vice president seat, and everyone agrees, I’ll be taking your role as the club’s enforcer.”
I straight-out laughed. “This is fucking ridiculous. I can’t even—” I leaned my head back and looked up at the ceiling in disbelief of what the fuck was happening right now.
“Listen, guys,” Granite started, placing his elbows on the table, clutching his hands, “I know it’s a lot of changes, but the day I took my dad’s place, I vowed to take care of this club as best I could. Today, I’m doing just that.” He leaned back. “I made a deal with the devil to save my old lady. Did I do the right thing? Yeah. Would I do it again? Hell, yeah. But even though this is happening under these fucked up circumstances, I know this is the right thing.” He thumped his fist against his chest. “I can feel it in here. This. Is. The right thing. And we will make sure those Python fuckers bleed for all they’ve done to us.”
Silence settled around the room. Like a virus, it infected the air around us, and the amount of tension that was raging among us was almost crippling. No one said a word, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Clearly, none of us wanted it to be this way, but as I looked at my brother, I knew this was probably harder for him than it was for any of us.
He looked at me, and I gave a slight nod to the gavel at his right. It was time, even if we didn’t want it to be.
Granite took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and placed his hand on the gavel.
“Everyone’s had time to think about this. In the matter of Onyx becoming the new president of the American Street Kings, Dutch taking his place as vice president, and me becoming the club’s
new enforcer, I say…” he glanced at me, “yea.”
His words beat against my heart like a drum, heavy with the sacrifice my brother was making all because he was hellbent on protecting everyone he cared about it.
Granite looked over at Ink, and Ink nodded. “Yea.”
“Yea.” Manic followed without hesitating.
Dutch’s head was hanging down, hands clasped together in a fist on the table. It would have taken a special kind of stupid for anyone to miss the fact that this was just as hard for Dutch as it was for us. Dutch had been at the top of Granite’s fan club for fuck knew how long. He loved my brother, respected him, and this had to be one of the toughest things he had ever had to do.
He looked up and right at Granite, saying, “Yea,” yet his eyes said the exact opposite.
When Granite turned my way, I couldn’t get myself to say that one simple word. I couldn’t get it out of my fucking mouth because my heart wouldn’t let me.
“Onyx,” Granite urged, and I rubbed the back of my neck. This was one of the hardest votes I ever had to cast. It was such a simple word that carried so much weight, tearing me up on the inside.
I dropped my arm. “Yea.”
Granite nodded lightly, the expression on his face unreadable. I never knew how he did that, how he was able to hide everything he felt behind the stone look on his face. But it had to be hell to hold everything inside, to never let an emotion slip past that cold, hard exterior he wore around him so boldly.
He picked up the gavel, and I was sure it was one of the heaviest things he ever had to hold. And the second that gavel hit the table, the sound resonated with a dire thud, changing our future.
No one made a sound. No one moved. The moment was too heavy—for all of us.
Granite cleared his throat as he stood from his seat, letting his cut slip off his shoulders. He placed it on the table in front of him, his hand hovering over the president tag. After tracing a single finger over the fabric, Granite yanked it off, tearing it at the stitches. “This tag was on dad’s cut. I didn’t want a new one, so I pulled it off his cut after he died.” He held it out to me, his eyes gleaming with sorrow, yet there was a hint of pride as he stared down at me. “Now it’s yours.”
I stood and hesitated before I took the tag from him. “Even though I accept this, doesn’t mean I like it.”
“I know. We all know. But this is the right thing.”
“You keep saying that.”
“It’s because I know it.”
There was a bitter taste stuck in the back of my mouth as I stared at the tag. “I, um…” I swallowed. “I’ll always look up to you, Granite. And even though I’ll be wearing this tag, to me, you’ll always be the leader.”
Granite shook his head. “No. You are the leader now, and you need to accept that fact.”
He moved to the side, making way for me to take the seat at the head of the table. The fucking chair was taunting me, like it knew how hard it was for me to make this move. This final move that would seal my acceptance as president and my fate as leader.
Everyone was still silent, the heaviness of this moment weighing on everyone’s shoulders. But as I took my new seat at the table, staring at the men who sat before me, it was like the penny dropped. This was really fucking happening, and I was now responsible for everyone in this crew.
Our crew.
My crew. And I would go on a rampage through hell in order to give everyone here what they really wanted. Revenge.
I placed my hands on the table, looking everyone in the eye, one by one. “Let’s go fuck up some Pythons.”
Chapter Nine
Onyx
Everyone was sitting around The Hanged Man, drinking, laughing, talking shit. Alyx joined us and sat next to Granite, his hand draped around her shoulder showing ownership.
Ink and Manic had been parked by the bar for the last two hours chugging down one beer after the other, and Dutch had been chatting up the new waitress. Since the whole ordeal with Tanit, Trick had left the crew, unable to deal with the death of her sister. And with Neon still recovering, we needed to replace three waitresses but had no problem filling the positions since there were a lot of young women desperate for work around New York City. But the three waitresses had now become fair game among a bunch of horny bikers, and Dutch clearly had his mind set on a particular blonde.
“You okay over there?”
I looked up at Granite as Alyx stood and left.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I shifted. “So, what do we know about this new drug going around killing minors?”
He shrugged. “Not much. All we know is it’s not ecstasy—at least not clean ecstasy.”
“We need to find out as much as we can about this drug.”
Granite nodded. “I’m one hundred and twenty-five percent certain it’s got the Python stamp of ownership on it.”
“Yeah, me too. Ink needs to get on this ASAP.”
“I agree.”
A loud cheer erupted from the bar, and we turned to see Ink gulping down a giant mug of beer. The more he swallowed, the more beer spilled down the side of his face.
“Yeah, we’ll wait until he has the hangover from hell in the morning before we give him the order.”
Granite laughed. “See, you’re already good at this whole president thing.”
“No. I’m just good at fucking Ink around.”
As quickly as the racket started, it ended. The sudden silence made Granite and me look up, and we saw everyone was looking toward the stairs.
When I turned in my seat, I noticed why everyone was stunned into silence. It was Neon, making her way down the stairs with her crutches, and Alyx not far behind her. One stair at a time, Neon hopped down, refusing to let Alyx help her. Everyone could see the struggle, how hard it was for her to move down each step. But we could also see the determination on her face to do it by herself. To conquer those motherfucking steps like a champ.
Ink ignored the three beers in front of him, wiping his face as he watched her move. The look on his face was priceless. Something between admiration and fear. I could only guess he was blown away by her strength, yet scared shitless that she might get hurt.
As her foot without a cast hit the ground, and she looked up at us, her forehead creased with exertion, every single person in that bar stood—including Granite and me. It was one of the most powerful moments within the club, watching Neon rise to her feet, moving forward, determined to walk and live again. For the first time, I saw exactly what it was that Ink saw in her, why he refused to give up on her…because she was a fucking survivor.
Everyone started clapping, her cheeks blushing with a faint shade of pink. And while we stood there cheering for her, a tear slipped down her cheek. The feeling that swept through my chest was fierce, strong, and I wanted to burst with pride. This moment defined us. Neon fucking defined us. The Kings. This was us.
Strength.
A crew was only as strong as its weakest member, and Neon might not wear a cut, she might not be an old lady, but she was one of us. She was family. And she just proved that our fire was nowhere near burning out. The show of her inner strength had become our best motivator to take back what was rightfully ours and to protect our goddamn family. No. Matter. What.
Neon smiled, her face still painted with shades of bruised blues and yellows. “What does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?”
Laughter broke out, and Ink approached her, holding a bottle of beer. I half expected her to throw another shoe at his face, but the look that crossed between them was impossible to miss. The expression on her face was that of sheer appreciation, and his of complete infatuation.
God, it felt good to see her rise above what had been done to her, a bittersweet reminder that giving up, sitting back, and allowing life’s setbacks to define and ruin you was not an option. She might have been knocked down. Trampled on. Wrecked. But she got up. And here she was, ready to face the world once more.
I continu
ed to clap as I walked over to her. Her eyes were gleaming with unshed tears. “I’m so proud of you right now.”
“Thanks.” She blushed.
“It’s good to see you haven’t lost that fire in you, Neon.” I reached out to pull her in for a hug but stopped before I touched her. Uncertainty made me hesitate, not sure if she would want to be touched. But she smiled and nodded.
“It’s okay.”
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her in for a hug, careful not to hurt her back, which was still healing from third-degree burns. “It’s good to see you on your feet again.”
“Dude,” Ink chimed in, “give the girl some space, would you? Jesus.”
I chuckled and shot him the widest grin I could muster. “Jealous much?”
“Not jealous. Simply…concerned.”
“Whatever, man.” I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Go grab the woman a seat.”
As Ink led her to the table, the door to the bar opened, and a figure caught my attention. Her eyes instantly found mine, and I let out a breath.
“Wraith,” I whispered. She came back.
I made my way through the crowd, never taking my eyes off her. She stood motionless by the door, her gaze reaching for me across the sea of people between us. I wasn’t sure whether it was the buzz of the atmosphere around us or the magic I saw swirling in her irises, but as I broke through the crowd, I rushed to her. And without thinking twice, I grabbed her face between my palms, forcing her back and crashing my lips against hers.
It was insane. I didn’t even know her. I didn’t know who she was other than she called herself Wraith. I didn’t know where she was from. How old she was. Did she have family around here? I knew nothing about her. All I knew was I wanted to kiss her. So, I did.
I felt her hesitate, pulling back slightly. But I held her face between my hands, refusing to let go, and I forced my tongue through the barrier of her lips while fusing my mouth to hers, desperate to taste her. It felt like I was on a high I had never been on before, this kiss of a stranger forcing a kind of rush through my body I couldn’t explain.