HURRICANE (Beasts of Prey Book 2)

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HURRICANE (Beasts of Prey Book 2) Page 22

by LC Lehesaho

That's how I know it's not a fucking dog.

  I want to run there as fast as possible, but the feeling in my gut tells me it's not a good idea.

  Every inch of air has left my lungs, my legs feel heavy as I step by step get closer.

  "Hey, there," I say, keeping my voice as smooth and quiet as I possibly can but loud enough for the boy to hear it beside the growling animals. He is sitting in the middle of the cage, his knees pulled against his chest and arms tightly around his shins, but even when I get closer, he is not looking in my direction. Instead, he keeps his face against his knees. There are cuts on his arms, like from a whip or something, and it makes me see red.

  I crouch down, a little bit sideways to him, and bow my head down. "I'm Leo, and I promise I'm not here to hurt you. Can you hear the gunfire outside?"

  The boy nods, the move nearly noticeable.

  "Good. I'm not going to lie to you, but everyone working here is going to die." I try my best card because of the way he trembles, fear leaking out of him in waves, the cuts—they've hurt him. Badly.

  And the human mind usually seeks revenge.

  I did.

  The boy turns his head up, looking at me straight in the eyes. My heart screeches to a halt.

  I've seen those eyes.

  Four years ago, when I visited Hernandez, I saw those eyes. I remember him because the boy I met back then reminded me about my sons. He stole his twin sister's bike and drove around the yard, jumping over every bump like it was a goddamn BMX bike. It wasn't, and his wicked smirk reminded me of Bear because he's also always teasing his siblings. Then his sister began to cry, and the boy quickly brought her bike back, hugging her, and started to teach her how to jump over those bumps.

  Hernandez's wife and kids were supposed to be dead, but this boy in front of me is not. This kid is his own fucking son.

  "Anthony, isn't it?" I ask, ripping my T-shirt over my head and handing it to him through the bars. Slowly, he lets go of his legs, moving his position so he is on his knees, and it takes everything from me to keep my expression unwavering when I see the cuts all over his torso. Part of them fresh, some already turned into wide scars. His hand shakes as he reaches to take the shirt and nods.

  "You probably don’t remember me, but we met four years ago. I told you and your sister that I have five kids, the same age as you. I promise I'll get you out of here. Who has the key?" I point at the lock on the door, getting up slowly.

  The boy doesn't say a word, just drills his dark eyes into mine.

  "Hernandez?" I try.

  He nods, and I hope to god it's his choice not to speak, not that he can't. Suddenly his eyes snap to look past me and widens, making me turn my gaze too.

  "Boss?" Pietro peeks from the ajar door, "I have something for you."

  "Is he unarmed?"

  "Yes, I checked."

  "Well, toss him in and keep watch outside." At those words, I watch as Pietro literally throws Hernandez inside. He rolls on the floor, and I turn to look at the boy. "Should I kill him?'

  I know I'm definitely going to kill him, but the question is meant to give the boy the power of it. Make him have the faith that he can choose his own destiny, no one else. Even from the cage, he can decide if this son-of-a-bitch lives or dies.

  "Y-yes," he says, stepping closer to the bars.

  "Magnificent choice, kid," I answer, making my way to Hernandez, who is scrambling back to his feet. I grab him by his neck while he starts to explain his actions. Like everyone else when they realize they're going to die. I snatch the keys from his pocket and throw them to the boy in the cage, letting him get himself out.

  I don't know why or how long he's been there, but however it is, one thing is for sure.

  He needs the ability to make his own choices from now on.

  Present

  Cobra's big hazel eyes are wide as she looks at me from the other side of the table when I finish my story.

  "The guard at the gate started to work for me after that and told me the same as Tiger about what had happened. He had tried to get him free again and again over the years but without success," I tell her while she wipes her face, overwhelmed. "He died three years ago. Lung cancer."

  "Thank you for telling me this, Dad," she finally says, letting out a shaky breath. "I can't even express how happy I am to get to be your daughter. You saved him."

  My chest still tightens every time I have to think about it, but when I look at my Angel and think about Tiger now…

  I think I accidentally saved us all.

  Tiger has been there for Cobra all these years when I was completely unaware of what was going on in her mind. And without my Angel, there would not be me either.

  "I'm proud to be your father, and you know what, kiddo?" I give her a smirk, wanting to see her smile. "I think there's some Cupid’s blood in me."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The tension in Dad's office is tangible. Puma and Bear sit on the opposite sides of the room, glaring at each other, but at least Tiger and Bear have formed some sort of peace between them as I hoped. When I saw Bear this morning, he was in our shared kitchen and drank vodka straight from the bottle—avoiding Rose, who was sleeping in his bed.

  Well, he's still drinking but not hating everyone anymore. Based on the daggers he shoots from his black eyes, his malice's primary targets are Puma and Dad.

  It will probably take a century until he gets used to the idea that Rose will move in with him.

  Falcon and Wolf are their regular spots. The latter beside the window like a statue, and Falcon sucks a lollipop in the armchair. She glances at my throat and wiggles her black brows at me with a smirk. I wish I could use some sibling mind mojo and tell her to cut it out because the last thing I want is to draw attention to it. What Tiger and I do behind closed doors doesn't certainly belong to Dad or my brothers.

  "Wolf, tell us what you got," Dad says, sipping whiskey in his leather chair behind the massive desk.

  Everyone's eyes turn to Wolf, and his expression doesn't change a bit from the attention given to him. The sleeves from his black turtleneck are pulled up to his corded forearms, which are folded across his chest, and there is a gun in the holster on his waist like always. With the black cargo pants and combat boots, he looks like a soldier.

  Usually, he acts like one too.

  "We went through the families of Crusador's dead men, and one of them had a brother who also worked for him," Wolf starts, his tone professional. He never lingers in his words and only speaks when he has something to say; there is no chit-chatting with Wolf. "Falcon and I gathered him up. He didn't know where Crusador lives and based on his words, no one does, but he gave us the name of the nightclub Crusador owns in Preston. Said that he visits there from time to time. My opinion is, we put that club under surveillance."

  "I agree." Dad nods, swirling the liquid in his glass. "I'll tell Romero to plant his men in there. We can't show our faces in his club, but Romero has many unknown faces in his group. Anything else?"

  "This guy and his brother were the ones who burned down Purgatory and Liberte by Crusador's orders. The name Hunter, which he was known as among Snow and Wong, came from his sense of drama, trying to hunt down the beasts. That's why they left the animal skulls in the nightclubs to represent us," Wolf explains patiently.

  "Wonder if they're planning to continue their tradition, ‘cause we still have a couple of clubs open," Falcon says, letting out a giggle. "A bear and a wolf skull were easy but think about if they run out of big animals and have to use mine or Cobra's." She pinches her index finger and thumb close to each other, getting a slight snort out of Puma. "We couldn't even find the little skulls of our animals."

  "It's nice you can tear humor out of this," Dad deadpans and turns his eyes back to Wolf from Falcon. "Was that all?"

  Wolf nods, brushing his black hair back before continuing to look like a statue.

  I observe them while eating sushi rolls by Tiger's side on the couch, legs crisscrossed i
n front of me, and he keeps his hand resting on my thigh. It's casual, but I love it. I pick one basic nigiri with salmon—the only flavor he likes—and dip it in soy and wasabi before lifting it in front of his face.

  Falcon keeps smirking like an idiot when Tiger eats the nigiri from my fingers, smiling at me while chewing it down.

  No one says anything, but from the corner of my eye, I see how everyone's gaze sweeps on us before continuing to stare at Dad. I never knew this could be so easy. I always dreamed we could be together like this, but I never imagined our family would be so okay with us showing affection in front of everyone.

  "What are we gonna do while Romero's guys do the sneaking for us?" Falcon asks the question, which usually belongs to Bear. He isn't in a mood for talking because his mouth is busy with the liquor bottle. His eyes have a glistening reddish shade in them, which I know is because he's bat-shit drunk. I don't even know how he can still be conscious with all that alcohol in his system.

  "You have lectures to participate in, so you'll graduate on time. I've already made arrangements with the university's security team." Dad gives me a knowing look. "Cobra, you can choose whenever you go back. Just keep your professor on track with your studies. The same goes for you, Tiger."

  "I'll call there tomorrow," I answer after swallowing the burning piece of heaven down my throat. "I think I'll wait a while before jumping back on track."

  Dad knows precisely why. I can't exactly sit in on lectures if I keep throwing up half of the day. When these fucking withdrawals are over, I swear to God, I'm gonna sing hallelujah.

  "I actually have a couple of courses which need customer work, so I'll do them now and use Romero's kitchen for it," Tiger states casually like he has everything under control. Probably he has, or it might also be that graphic designing belongs to the art department of the university, and there everything is freer. That or, Tiger just walks out of the lectures whenever he feels like it.

  Now when I think of it, I might have false beliefs about art studies.

  "Good idea. I have one thing we need to talk about before you all can leave." Dad glances at Bear, who ignores him completely. "Like you all may now know, Rose is pregnant, and because of it, I suggested that she moves in here."

  Bear mutters something under his breath, which makes Dad grit his jaw. "The situation is too dangerous for her to live alone because we can never know when Crusador might get a hint about the baby and decide to drag Rose into this."

  Everyone falls silent, eyes on Bear. It's like weight put on the landmine and released—he storms up, and the bottle in his hand goes airborne over the room merely a few inches above Puma's head, who luckily ducks down in time and the bottle crashes to the wall, glass shattering to the floor.

  "The fuck?"

  "Jesus Christ—" Puma yells, and everyone curses simultaneously, but before anyone has time to react more than that, Bear staggers out of the room, cursing on his way. Dad looks like nothing happened, expression perfectly steady while the rest of us stare at each other with wide eyes, save from Wolf. He is like Dad, totally unaffected.

  "Wolf, go after him and make sure he sobers up," Dad orders. "Don't let him near Rose in that state."

  "We'll be in my loft," he answers while already walking out.

  "I think I need to start locking my door," Puma huffs, eyeing the mess behind him while adjusting his cap backward to his head. "Dickwad is losing his marbles."

  Dad narrows his eyes, and the vein on his forehead starts to make an appearance. "What you need to do is grow up and stop haunting him. There are bigger issues on the table than the old grudges you hold."

  We don't really know what's going between them, or maybe Dad knows, but Puma and Bear haven't gotten along for the past couple of years. I've asked about it from both of them, but neither one has said anything. Puma can hold a grudge, that's for sure, but two years is a long time even for him. Bear has tried to joke around him and ease up the tension, but Puma just gets mad about it.

  I've given up on trying to make them solve their issues.

  Puma sighs, sliding himself to the edge of his seat like he’s ready to speed out of the room when allowed. "Is this all for today?"

  "Yes, you can go," Dad says, leaning back in his chair, and watches as we get up and make our way out.

  In the hallway, Tiger takes my hand but turns to Puma, who's already going towards the underground garage. "Hey, man, where are you going?"

  He turns to walk backward, a couple of angsty lines on his forehead. "Visit Pronto Muerte's clubhouse. Why?"

  I roll my eyes, knowing the reason for his trip. Here I was, thinking his new interest in coaching would get him to ease up with getting high, but stupid me, clearly that's not gonna happen.

  Falcon shoots her hands in the air, stopping his moves. "Wait! I was going there anyway, so gimme a ride! Just a sec, I'll go change!" Then she sprints upstairs before anyone of us can comment. I don't even want to know why she is hanging out there, even though I have my suspicions. It might have something to do with Uncle Emilio. What she sees in Havoc is beyond me.

  "We were gonna watch a movie, and I thought you'd wanna hang out with us?" Tiger asks Puma, and my heart flutters from his thoughtfulness. Of course, we've always been a tight trio but considering things between us have changed a little, I assumed he'd want to spend a night with just the two of us. But I'm not complaining, I love my brother, and I'm always ready to spend time with him.

  But Puma shakes his head. "Nah, you two have fun, and I'll have mine, 'kay?"

  The worry in Tiger's eyes makes me worry too. "Well, I want to spar with you tomorrow, so be ready, bro," he says while Falcon already flies back downstairs.

  I gape at her outfit, which is only a black leather mini skirt and top that looks more like a bra. Hot as fuck, but… "You know, it's not the weekend, sis."

  She gives me a once over, letting out a sarcastic snort. "Well, at least I'm not dropping to the matching outfit hole like you two losers."

  Tiger and I glance at each other's black sweats, shrugging at the same time. He opens his mouth first. "We've always dressed like this."

  Puma laughs. "Yeah, ‘cause you've been two peas in a pod since day one." He waves his car keys around on his finger. "C'mon, party girl, let's hit the road."

  They leave, joking about us as they go, and Tiger glances at me with a smirk. "I kinda hoped for this result. I waited for the entire day to cuddle with you on the couch. I even got you chocolate-covered popcorn, baby girl."

  My smile grows from ear to ear. "I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you as my boyfriend."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Bear wipes his hands on his jeans—it's happened repeatedly for the past ten minutes—and then tears them through his hair, crossing fingers to the back of his neck. The veins in his bulked arms look like they could explode from the tension he holds.

  "Try to breathe, okay?" I blow a warm breath into my palms, rubbing them together, and reach up to massage his temples. "If you're bat shit nervous, you're not gonna remember anything about the first moment you saw your baby. Relax."

  His nearly black eyes stare down at me, moodiness clouding his features. Then he throws his head back, a growl rising from his chest. "Fuck, I need a drink."

  I slap his hard chest, laughing. "No, you fucking don't! C'mon, Bear, this is just the first ultrasound, and you're already losing it. What happens when the baby comes? Will you be one of those daddies who pass out in labor?"

  "Probably," he admits, a little bit of an anxious smile coming to his lips. "Thanks for being here with me, sis. I couldn't handle this alone."

  Wrapping my arms around his body, I press my head to his chest. "You don't have to. I'm your sister, and I'm always by your side."

  He embraces me, burying his face in my hair. "Good. Still, I need a fucking drink."

  "You can get your drink after this, but for now, you're gonna stay sober," I lean back, an excited smirk on my face. "Because we're gonna se
e the baby!"

  Like hearing my words, Doc opens the door to our medical room, where she was doing some pre-check for Rose and wanted privacy for it. She pushes her glasses up her nose, dipping her chin. "You can come in. We're ready for the ultrasound."

  Clapping my hands together, I let out a little yelp, which makes Bear laugh, and he grabs my hand in his, squeezing it hard.

  Rose is already on the examination table, legs spread wide, but thanks to God, she has a white cover on, so her lady parts don't jump on my retinas as we walk in. Her facial expression doesn't give out much of her feelings, but if I'd be in her position, I'd probably be hyperventilating.

  For as long as I remember, one of my dreams has been to be a mother. It scares the shit out of me at the same time, all the pregnancy stuff and giving birth and all that, but I can't think of anything more perfect than holding your own baby. There's always been only one who I want to have a baby with—if you didn't count my crush on Daniel Radcliffe when I was a kid.

  I can't wait to experience this all with Tiger.

  The first expression on his face when we see the two lines on the pregnancy test. Or maybe I'm going to be one of those wives who will put a bun into an oven to tell their husbands they're pregnant and film their shocked reaction when they stare at the single bun in a cold oven and realize what it means.

  Oh, my. I can't wait for us to get there in our relationship. Though it might take a while, considering he hasn't shown signs of being very interested in babies.

  "Are you excited?" I ask Rose when we take place by her side.

  "You have no idea," she huffs, rolling her eyes. "I haven't been able to eat properly in days."

  Doc sits on her saddle chair and rolls between Rose's legs, preparing her equipment. Bear is pumping my hand like it's a goddamn stress ball while staring at the screen, which obviously doesn't show anything yet. I lift my other hand to pet his arm, hoping to ease his stress. However, it would be hilarious if he'd pass out already at this point. I've never seen Bear like this. Usually, nothing gets to him.

 

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