American Street Kings: The Complete Series

by Bella J

  “What’s the matter, snake? Did you think I’d make it easy for you?”

  His throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he refused to show me his fear—other than the shadows of uncertainty in his irises.

  I reached into the bag and placed the recorder on the table before pulling out the needle and tube needed to set up the IV.

  “I hope you have experience in that.”

  I glared his way. “Experience in what?”

  “Needles.”

  I scoffed. “Trust me, I do.”

  “Ah. Old junkie, are we?”

  His voice grated at my spine. “Shut up.”

  “And a touchy subject, I see.”

  Closing my eyes, I let out a breath, my fists already clenched. “You know, if I was the one hanging from a ceiling with my balls pretty much in a vise, I’d shut the fuck up right about now.”

  “What was your poison? Heroin?”

  I did my best to ignore him, knowing he was only baiting me into losing my shit. Being the fucker he was, he’d do anything to get under my skin, use every stone he could pick up and throw my way just to fuck with my head. But he was underestimating my hate for him being stronger than his mindfuck tactics.

  “Heroin, it is,” he continued with his motherfucking condescending tone. “Funny, I always pictured you as a snow junkie, like that blue-haired pixie of yours. She was a cokehead, right?”

  I lost it, even though I tried so hard to brush his bullshit off. But whenever he talked about her, something inside me snapped, like a rubber band stretched too thin. With hell burning in my veins, I grabbed the chains tied around his feet, the skin still raw and oozing from the burns. All he did was laugh, cackling like a demon who got off from pain. The sound fueled me. It made my heart beat with adrenaline, pouring gasoline on my blazing rage. The hardest part was not killing him. Not driving my knife through his motherfucking skull right at that moment. It was too soon, something I was forced to remind myself of whenever I was here in this room with him.

  Pulling the chains, I lifted his feet up behind him, bending his body backward. The stench of his piss grew more potent, his jeans soaked all along his legs. Once I was done with what I was about to do, he’d probably shit himself too.

  The pitch in his laugh grew higher. “You can’t break me, pretty.”

  “I’m sure as fuck gonna have fun trying.”

  “Did you know I timed your blue-haired pixie’s first scream? It was when I broke her leg. Her screams hit this same roof for just over nine seconds before she swallowed her cries.”

  “On second thought…” I dropped the chains, the weight forcing Slither’s body to slip back down and sway. I grabbed his right leg, bending it at the knee, and lifted the chain before wrapping it around him, tying his leg in place, making it impossible for him to straighten it. I rushed to the corner of the room, picking up the ten-pound hammer which had already been there. With every sliver of rage that pulsed in my blood, with every flash of her beaten up body, her pain, her screams, her fucking wrecked soul, I swung with all my strength, aiming at his bent knee. The crack of bone breaking, the snap of his kneecap, and the sound of his screams roared through the room. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted him to scream louder. I wanted his cries to break through the roof. I wanted it to fucking sing to my blood, to bathe in his pain. So, I reared back and wrecked his motherfucking knee with another hard as fuck blow. His screams raised a pitch, and I loved it, smiling and laughing like a goddamn kid at a playground. I knew torturing him would be satisfying, but I did not expect it to feel this fucking good.

  The second I dropped the hammer, I stepped back, my chest rapidly rising and falling while my anger and satisfaction collided with a burning force.

  “That’s right, fucker. Whose screams are hitting this goddamn roof now?” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, smiling as I watched his face contort in pain.

  Pain.

  Pain.

  So much fucking pain.

  I loved it. The sound of his torment. The sight of it. My body felt electrified, my mind soaring with cruel enjoyment. I was fucking high on the devil’s anguish while I avenged my fallen angel’s ruin.

  “Motherfucker!” Slither bellowed, sweat beading on his forehead as he cringed. “You piece of shit, motherfucker!”

  “The only piece of shit around here is you.” I untied the chains holding his knee in place, and his leg dropped. It earned me more screams that ripped through the emptiness around us. His body swayed, his whimpering cries sending bolts of excitement down my spine. There was no need to imagine what kind of pain he was experiencing. It was all there in the deafening roar that escaped his mouth and calmed my rage.

  “I would love to stay here and listen to you swallow your screams, but I have a barbecue to get to.” With the chain in one hand, I grabbed his leg pulled it up behind him again, bending his shattered knee. His shrieks tore through his chest as I tied the chains around his waist to keep his knee bent behind him once again.

  He leaned his head back, eyes shut. “Jesus Christ!”

  “I’m afraid Jesus can’t help you now, snake.”

  I grabbed the IV bag, piped it, and primed the tubing. The last thing we needed was for the fucker to die of something so simple as a fucking air bubble.

  “Now, don’t get too excited,” I started, crouching and reaching for his left foot. “There’s no pain killers in this. Just a little something to keep you hydrated so you don’t die on me sooner than planned.”

  With him hanging from the ceiling, the veins on his feet were already bulged and easy to access.

  He didn’t even flinch when I inserted the needle and set up the IV. He probably didn’t even feel it compared to the fire lit in his broken leg.

  I straightened. “That should you keep you alive…for now.”

  “You’re too kind,” he bit out between clenched teeth, and I had to laugh at how he still managed sarcasm while in his current state.

  “Before I go, I’m just going to leave these here.” I placed the two iron hooks I brought with me on the table, right in his view. “I had other plans for you today, but there was a sudden change in our fucking itinerary.” Turning, I faced him. “But I’ll be back later to use these.”

  When he saw the hooks, his eyes grew wide, and I was sure the sweat on his forehead turned to goddamn ice. The sense of accomplishment I felt while staring at him, so helpless and vulnerable, unable to do shit while I tortured atonement out of him, was fucking awesome. My only wish was that she was here too, to see this sight—to see her demon suffer like she did. But she would be…soon.

  With a smile, I walked up to him and slapped my palm on his cheeks a few times, bringing my face inches from his. “Don’t go anywhere, snake.”

  Turning my back on him, I headed to the door. “Oh, one more thing before I go.” I pressed play on the recorder, and our little conversation from earlier started playing. Deleting the first part, I only saved the last bit of what recorded. “Some entertainment while I’m gone.”

  I winked at him and smiled, knowing he’d be listening to the sound of his knee shattering under the strength of a hammer and his cries that followed. For the next twelve hours, all he’ll be listening to was his own pain, on repeat. Like I said, there was something about a man’s screams that just sounded all wrong and fucked-up. Listening to your own screams, hearing the sound of your own weakness—now, that was pure torture.

  Chapter Seven

  Neon

  I had to admit, the purple hair looked way better than the dirty blonde I’d been sporting the last few weeks. The undercut had started to grow out, and Alyx offered to shave it back in style, but I didn’t want her to. The longer strands were thick enough to fall over and cover it. It was hardly noticeable, especially now with the striking purple curls hanging just below my shoulders.

  I looked closer at my reflection in the mirror, examining the scar of a torn-out eyebrow ring. At least they left my nose stud in place.

&
nbsp; “You want to get a new eyebrow ring?” Alyx leaned against the bathroom door.

  “Nah. I think I’m good for now.”

  She crossed her arms. “The purple looks good on you.”

  “Thanks, Swan Lake.”

  “I’m going to join the guys outside. You coming?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be down in a sec.”

  “Okay.” She smiled then walked out. Alyx was a sweet soul with a heart of gold. God knew what I would have done if she wasn’t around. But sometimes, like today, I found it hard to breathe around her—around people. Some days, I could act the part of a healing victim. Other days, trying to act normal was suffocating, like something inside me was pushing against my lungs, making it hard to breathe. It took an immense amount of strength to keep the pieces from scattering. I wanted to let go, to let the pieces fall, and to just stop trying to survive. Giving up would be so much easier than fighting. To let the darkness consume me would be a relief from the constant struggle to hold on to a light that was no longer there—a light they took from me. A light they tore out of me. A light I would never get back, not while I had hell wrecking me from the inside. The longer I suffered at the hands of the past, the more I accepted my fate. I was unsavable, destined to play pretend.

  I grabbed my crutch and headed out of the bathroom into my room when I saw Ink standing in the doorway. Whether it was a trick of the eye, or the fact that I no longer looked at anything the same, but he seemed bigger now. Taller. Darker. Like he had the world on his shoulders.

  “Your hair, it looks good.”

  I absentmindedly touched the ends. “Alyx insisted.”

  “Purple suits you.”

  “Thanks. But it’s violet.”

  A faint smile tugged at the ends of his mouth. “Violet, then.”

  “Why are you not outside with the guys?”

  He stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Did you sleep last night?” He crossed his arms as he turned my way.

  “A little.”

  “You’re lying.”

  I frowned. “I’m not.”

  “Is it nightmares?

  “No, Ink. It’s not—”

  “Memories?”

  “No. It’s none of that.”

  He inched closer. “Then what is it? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

  “I don’t know.” I huffed. “Maybe I’m not tired.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Back the fuck off, would you?”

  He took another step. “You haven’t had problems sleeping for a while. Why now?”

  “I don’t. Know. Why the fuck does it matter?” I moved back. “Wait. How do you know?”

  “Know what?”

  “That it’s been a while since I had trouble sleeping.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “How do you know?”

  His expression faltered, a sure sign I caught him off guard. “Alyx told me.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “You can’t call bullshit, because I already did.”

  I blinked. “What? No, wait. Never mind. You’re trying to distract me.”

  He lifted a pierced brow. “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Because you don’t want to answer my question.”

  “What was the question?”

  “How do you know my fucking sleeping habits so well?”

  He scowled, his mouth quirked up at the corner. “I don’t remember you asking that question.”

  “Ink!”

  “Okay, fine.” He threw his hands in the air. “Because I’ve been here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been here,” his gaze met mine, “in your room while you sleep.”

  “You what?” My mind couldn’t make sense of it. This entire conversation made no fucking sense.

  Ink rubbed the back of his neck, his dark hair falling and covering his eyes. “Remember that night you had that nightmare, the night Onyx and I rushed in here and found you on the ground?”

  “Yeah.” How could I forget?

  He straightened, squaring his shoulders as his gaze met mine. “I couldn’t take it, Neon. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being scared while you were under the same roof as me. It didn’t feel right.”

  “So, you what?” I crossed my arms. “You slip shit in my drinks so I could sleep?”

  He scoffed. “Fuck, no. I might be reckless, but I’m not stupid.”

  “That’s debatable.”

  “Anyway. After that night, I kinda came in here to sit with you.”

  My jaw gaped in disbelief. “You what?”

  He stared at me, unblinking.

  “Oh, my God, Ink. I can’t believe you did that. You invaded my privacy.”

  “I’m sorry, okay? I just—no, wait.” He paused, his brows slanted inward like he just had a motherfucking epiphany. “You know what? I’m not sorry. I won’t apologize.”

  “Like fuck, you won’t. Are you telling me you came into my room to watch me sleep like some fucking psycho?”

  “No.” He stepped closer, newly lit determination beaming from his brown irises. “I came in here to make sure you don’t wake up scared again. I won’t apologize for that, Neon. I won’t apologize for caring so damn much that I’d wait outside this motherfucking door until you’ve fallen asleep so I could come in here and sit beside your bed to make sure you never feel alone again.” He came so close his six-foot two body towered over me, his broad shoulders casing me in. The strong scent of sandalwood enveloped me, and I was suddenly pinned on the spot, unable to move. “I told you, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not backing off. I know I won’t ever be able to make things right for you, but I sure as fuck will die trying.”

  My heart hiccupped, and I was trapped under his intense stare, the look in his eyes tearing through the ice in my veins.

  “Why?” I murmured.

  He reached out, and one would think I’d pull away because that was all I’d ever done when it came to him. Pulling away, running, refusing to accept the fact that maybe…just maybe he really fucking cared. But this time I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.

  His palm cupped my cheek, his touch gentle. Caring. “Because one day you will be mine. Whether it’s now, in a year, ten years, or fucking fifty years. I don’t care how long it takes, but I will never stop. You hear me?” His thumb caressed my skin, and for the first time since everything happened, I appreciated another’s touch. His touch. It felt good. The warmth, the comfort, it radiated through my bones. It triggered an emotion in me that made a tear slip down my cheek.

  With his thumb, he wiped at the tear, his own eyes screaming with sorrow—my sorrow. My pain. I saw it. I saw it in the way he looked at me. It was there in the earthy hues of his irises, the anguish he felt for me…because of me.

  “I hate it when you cry, Neon.”

  I placed my hand over his, nestling my cheek deeper into his touch as another tear escaped. For a moment, I was free from the cold. Free from the chill that constantly possessed my body. Everywhere I went, it was always there clinging to me, refusing to let me feel anything but its icy claws. But not now. Not while I felt the warmth from his touch.

  “Neon—”

  “I was afraid.” I blinked away another tear. “I was afraid I’ll never feel again.” I closed my eyes. “But I do. I feel.” I opened my eyes and looked up at him. “I feel you, Ink.”

  “Neon.” He leaned down, and I couldn’t stop it. My mind screamed for me to stop what was about to happen, but the faint beat of my heart that had been shattered by the devil, a part of me that seemed insignificant until now, begged me not to. And I listened. For the first time, I obeyed the tiny piece of me that was left, and I let Ink do what he wanted to do…

  Kiss me.

  A soft whimper whispered over my tongue when I felt his lips against mine. It was warm, comforting, soft, a ghost of a kiss that had the power to disarm me. He didn’t deepen the kiss, and his tongue didn’
t try to push through the barrier of my lips. He was just there, letting me feel the caress of his mouth gently brushing mine. It was not so much a kiss as it was an expression of how gentle his heart was. For me.

  More tears escaped, my pain blending with his need to comfort me. My heart raced, emotion erupting inside me, my body both numb and electrified. I’d known this man for so long, and I never could have imagined he could be capable of a kiss so tender, so subtle, yet powerful enough to deafen the voices that haunted me.

  I couldn’t pull away from him even if I wanted to, and when his lips left mine, I refused to open my eyes because I didn’t want to break the spell. I didn’t want it to be over, afraid the voices would return.

  He leaned his head against mine. “I said this so many times before, and I’ll say it again. I’m not letting go, Neon. Never. Understand?” He lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Do you understand me? I’m going to be here waiting for you. Even if it takes a fucking lifetime. I’ll wait.”

  “Why? Why would you wait for someone as broken as me?” A tear lapped over my lips. “I can’t give you what you need.”

  “And what is it you think I need?”

  “Someone whole. Someone who isn’t broken into pieces.”

  He shook his head and inched closer. “You don’t get it.” With his palms cupping my cheeks, he lightly brushed his lips against mine before leaning into me. “It’s those broken pieces I want. I want to keep them together, so you don’t have to.”

  He pressed his lips against my forehead, and I closed my eyes, letting out a breath when he pulled back, heading to the door.

  “Ink.”

  He stilled, glancing at me over his shoulder.

  “You’re insane, you know that?”

  A grin appeared on his face. “You have no idea. See you downstairs?”

  I nodded.

  He didn’t close the door behind him when he left, and I stood there for what seemed like an eternity, staring into nothingness. There were no words to describe what just happened. I didn’t even understand it myself. Was I falling for him? Was he finally cracking the ice, breaking through the barrier I had successfully maintained around my heart for so long? From the beginning, he made no secret about what he wanted, trying everything he could to make me realize how serious he was. But this was different. This wasn’t the Ink I knew, the Ink who loved the chase—the hunter who caught his prey only to leave it bleeding out with no intention of devouring it.