DEPRAVED

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DEPRAVED Page 10

by J, Bella


  The old man seemed to have a thousand worry lines on his forehead, shaping the way to his widow’s peak. He was a tall man, definitely not something Alyx inherited from her father’s side of the gene pool.

  He straightened his suit. “Anything?”

  I handed him the brown envelope. “Pythons.”

  “What?” He grabbed the envelope and tore it open, pulling out the pictures. As he scanned them one by one, his face paled. I wanted to smile but kept my stoic expression while I knew what he was looking at. Pictures of three men sitting in a car outside the tattoo shop where Alyx was seen last. These pictures were legit, since they were taken by the security camera across the road.

  “How do you know they’re Pythons?” He kept looking at them, one by one.

  “Those fuckers are Python prospects. It didn’t take a lot of background checks to figure it out.”

  He glanced up at me. “Why? Why would they want to take Alyxandria?”

  In my head, I could see Alyx frowning. She hated her name, which was why she preferred Alyx.

  “Jesus.” He pulled his hand over his head, panic written all over his face, and I knew exactly at which picture he was looking. One of the pictures Neon took of Alyx earlier today.

  He hunched down, still clutching the images. “What did they do to her?” I’d never seen the police commissioner so close to tears. During the last five minutes, I’d seen more emotion in this man than I had during the last ten fucking years.

  “Is she…” he bit his fist, “is she still alive?”

  I nodded. “As far as we know.”

  “How…how did you get these pictures? What do these fuckers want?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Ink. “It got delivered this morning by another Python prospect. My guy here took care of that fucker.”

  The PC stood straight. “What do they want? Ransom? Blackmail?”

  I slipped my hands into my pockets. “They know about our business arrangement.”

  “What?” He narrowed his eyes.

  “They know we’ve been assassinating criminals around town in exchange for you turning a blind eye to our business with the Sixes.”

  He clutched the envelope tightly, his knuckles white and cheeks red. “Why? Why in God’s name would they take my daughter?”

  I straightened and squared my shoulders. “They want our business with the Sixes. They tried to infiltrate our club, tried to take us out, but they don’t have the balls or the manpower.” I lit another cigarette, trying my best to remain calm and not seem too overeager. “Now they’re pushing our asses into a corner by forcing us to choose.”

  He frowned, sweat running down the side of his face even though the early autumn chill was in the air. “How in God’s name are they forcing you in a corner by kidnapping my daughter?” He gritted out the words between clenched teeth, his emotion something between anger and fear. “Why the fuck would they hurt my baby girl?”

  I blew out a cloud of smoke. “They want the Sixes, and they won’t give your daughter back unless we walk away. In other words, they’re forcing us to choose.”

  It was easy to see the exact moment the penny dropped, blue eyes that mirrored his daughter’s staring at me as he put the pieces together. “They know I’ll come to you. They know I’ll ask your help to find her. In other words, they’re blackmailing you. Not me.”

  “Exactly.” I took another draw from my cigarette before exhaling. “They will only give Alyx back if we agree to walk away from our business with the Sixes. If we don’t, there’s no way they’ll let your daughter go…which would ultimately end our alliance with the police commissioner of New York. In other words, we’ll be fucked.” I faked a worried expression. “In fact, the Kings are fucked either way.”

  “Jesus,” he muttered, leaning his head back, staring up into the sky. “Sly bastards.”

  Ink stepped in next to me. “We can take these fuckers. Give us until dawn tomorrow, and you’ll be picking up their bodies across town for a week.”

  “No!” His glare cut from Ink to me. “No. Not until you get my daughter back. I don’t want her getting caught in the crossfire. This is your fucking war, not mine.” His anger was taking the lead over his fear, and right now we were easy targets.

  “Everybody calm the fuck down.” I flipped my cigarette across the road before I turned my attention to the commissioner. “We’ll get your daughter back.” I spat out some built-up mucus in the back of my throat as if I was already standing on a Python’s grave. “But once we have her, once she’s safe, Pythons are open game for us with no interference from you or your department.”

  “Done.” He didn’t even hesitate.

  I grinned then stepped closer. “You do understand that it’s war? It’s no longer just a battle for power between them and us. It’s a full-blown war, and there will be casualties. There will be blood. Are you prepared to bury the body count, no questions asked?”

  He took a step forward, matching mine, his eyes hard and determined. “I don’t give a fuck if you kill half the goddamn town, just as long as it’s not my daughter.”

  Deep down, I was fucking smiling like the Cheshire cat. The police commissioner just gave me the free pass I needed to take out those motherfucking Pythons with the entire goddamn police department behind me.

  I looked him up and down, sizing up the poor bastard. If only he could have shown such balls when it came to his wife starving and mind-fucking his daughter.

  Dutch moved closer, and I knew he was keeping an eye on the commissioner’s bodyguards, watching their every move. The day my father died and I took his seat at church, Dutch stepped up asking for the enforcer rank. He wanted to be my personal fucking bodyguard without the added responsibility the sergeant-at-arms would carry. For him, protecting me and my brother was like breathing. Loyal fucker.

  Taking a step back, I kept my gaze on the old man. “Keep the uniforms off our asses over the next week, and we’ll get your daughter back.” I turned to walk away when he called me.

  “Granite?”

  I stopped and glanced over my shoulder.

  “If she gets hurt in any way, I will make it my life’s mission to take you down alongside those Python bastards. I swear to God.”

  The threat was loud and clear, and I expected nothing less. The man’s daughter was at stake. I’d be tossing threats around like candy too if I were in his shoes.

  With a mere nod, I concluded our little meeting and got on my motorcycle. Ink and Dutch followed. The roars of our engines filled the silence of the dirt road, and we rode off.

  It was on. Our plan had finally been set in motion. Over the next week, New York would be our battleground as we fucked up each and every goddamn Python…all just to find the police commissioner’s daughter.

  Good thing we already had her safely tucked away.

  14

  Alyx

  “Hey, Swan Lake.”

  I rolled my eyes and didn’t even look her way.

  “You seem comfortable.”

  I snorted.

  “Jesus, what smells like vomit in here?”

  “Vomit.”

  Neon sat on the bed and looked at the sheet on the floor. “Please tell me there’s not vomit under there?”

  “There’s vomit under there.”

  “Good God.” She scrunched up her nose at the stench. “Okay, there’s a lot of shit I can handle. But that is just nasty.”

  Neon got up and started to untie me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m taking you out of this room and getting some prospects to clean this shit up.” Her dark brown eyes shot up to mine. “You’re not going to make me regret it, are you?”

  I remained silent.

  “Thought so.”

  I got up and rubbed the raw flesh around my wrists. “Why are you being nice to me?”

  She frowned. “I am? I didn’t notice.”

  “I’m serious. Why?”

  For a few seconds, she stu
died me, scrutinized me while pursing her lips, hands on her hips. “Because this ain’t us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She stepped closer, her eyes cold and hard with heavy black eyeliner. “Nothing is as it seems, Swan Lake. Whatever it is you think you know about us, about the Kings…you’re wrong.”

  “He kidnapped me.” I spat out the words. “He’s keeping me here against my will, so me thinking he’s a psychopath, that the Kings are savages, can’t be that wrong.”

  Her lips curled into a grin. “This ain’t your world anymore, Swan Lake. It’s ours. And in our world, Granite rules.”

  “Oh, he made that clear.”

  “He also protects. He takes care of us. And when there’s a threat, he does whatever he can to eliminate it.”

  I held up my hand. “Is that what I am? A threat?”

  “Not you. No.”

  “Nothing makes sense, Neon. Things you and Onyx said make me feel like I’m just part of some plot. But things Granite said…things he’s done, it tells me something completely different.”

  Neon cocked her head, the silver stud in her nose glinting. “Some friendly advice. Don’t try to understand him yet. First, try to understand our world, then maybe you’ll get a glimpse of the person Granite really is.”

  “What is going on, Neon?”

  Neon bit her pierced bottom lip then smiled. “All in due time, Swan Lake. All in due time.”

  I stepped back. “You’re loyal to him. A man who has no conscience. A man who kidnaps women.”

  For the first time since I met her, she gave me a tiny glimpse of aggression as her gaze turned into a glare, her lips pulled in a straight line. “I’m loyal to Granite because he deserves it. Not because he demands it.” She walked up to me, so close I could smell her jasmine scented perfume. “Like I said. Don’t try to understand him. Not yet. You’ll get it wrong if you do.”

  “It’s kind of hard not to make my own assumptions while he has me tied to a chair behind a locked door.”

  She smiled and stepped back. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Swan Lake. You’ll figure it out soon.” With that, she brushed past me toward the door. “Come on. We’ll wait in the kitchen while the boys clean up in here.”

  I watched her walk away, and my mind reeled. Neon had turned into a threat in the blink of an eye because of how I spoke about Granite. It was clear as fucking daylight that her loyalty was with him and no one else. If there ever was a part of me that hoped I could rely on her and a developing friendship between us to help me out of this mess…I was wrong.

  Neon walked out of the room, leaving me behind like she knew I wouldn’t run. How was she so certain I wouldn’t? Or maybe it was because she knew I couldn’t. I was no match for street smart bikers. Not when my only talent was being able to dance on my toes for hours straight.

  I followed. “You’ll probably get into trouble for letting me out.”

  “Nah. You’ll be back in your room and tied to that chair before Granite gets back.”

  “Are you really—” I paused when I walked into the kitchen, Onyx sitting at the table, eating. My heart stopped, and I glanced from him to Neon.

  Neon shrugged. “Relax. Onyx ain’t the brother you should worry about.”

  Onyx looked at me as I stood by the entrance, not saying a word. Those blue irises seemed darker, his features cold and hard. But even so, he still didn’t intimidate me as much as his brother did.

  “Something tells me you’re not the caffeine type.” Neon grabbed milk from the fridge. “Tea?”

  “Water.” I remained still, feeling uncomfortable under Onyx’s gaze.

  Finally, he looked down at the bowl of macaroni and cheese in front of him. “Take a seat, Alyx. The meaner brother won’t be back for the next hour.” The sarcasm in his voice wasn’t lost.

  I eased into a chair across from him.

  He tilted his bowl so I could see the food in it. “Want some?” He smirked, two dimples flanking his top lip. It was easy to see he was younger than his brother. He seemed different too. Lighter, somehow. Like there was more than just ice running through his veins.

  Voices came from down the hall, and Neon yelled, “Make that room all sparkly-clean, boys.” The grin on her face told me she was having fun at their expense.

  I cleared my throat. “What are prospects?”

  Neon placed a glass of water in front of me. “They’re like little babies, and it’s our job to raise them right.”

  Onyx snickered. “What Neon is trying to say, if you want to join our club, you need to prove yourself first. Hence why prospects are cleaning up your vomit right now.”

  I bit my lip, my gaze sweeping across the kitchen.

  “So,” Neon sat next to me, “what’s the deal? Why don’t you like eating? You anorexic? Bulimia? What is it?”

  “Jesus, Neon,” Onyx muttered.

  “What? I’m asking a straight question.”

  I rubbed my hands together nervously. “It’s not that. I just need to watch my weight.”

  Neon took a sip from her coffee. “Because you’re a ballerina?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, you’re saying when you have curves, you can’t dance?”

  “No. That’s not what I’m saying.” I reached for the glass of water. “Being a ballerina is all about balance and technique. If you’re overweight, it makes it difficult.”

  “So you starve yourself?” Neon looked at me all serious, like her question wasn’t intended to take a hit at me and my eating habits.

  “Every career has its sacrifices,” I replied simply.

  “Sure,” Neon shrugged, “but yours is, like…unhealthy.”

  “Leave the woman alone, Neon.” Onyx got up and placed his bowl in the sink.

  Neon lifted her feet, putting them on the table as she leaned back in her seat. “Why the fuck are you so uptight?”

  “I’m not.” He turned to face her. “I just don’t get why everyone is so fucking obsessed with her and her eating habits.”

  “We’re not obsessed with her eating habits, we’re just concerned.”

  Onyx snickered. “Yeah, her being here is all about our concern over her eating habits.”

  Neon frowned. “Just because she’s here under these circumstances doesn’t mean I can’t show a little compassion for her situation.”

  “A situation we put her in.”

  Neon sat up straight. “Because we had no other fucking choice.”

  “I fucking know that. But that doesn’t mean we have to have so much fucking fun while we keep her here against her will. God, you’re like a little girl who got a baby doll for Christmas, and all you want to do is play fucking dress-up.”

  “Fuck you, Onyx.”

  “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? Show some goddamn respect.”

  Neon snorted. “You haven’t earned it yet.”

  The atmosphere turned from uncomfortable to hostile. Their words flew like poison darts, each aimed at the other’s head. Onyx seemed angry. Neon seemed determined. It was a toxic combination.

  I got up from my chair while they bickered. They didn’t even notice. With a deep breath, I stood straight—tail down, spine up. Shoulders and hips faced the same direction. My head erect and centered. I balanced my weight on the triangle of my feet. It was one of the first things they taught you in ballet, to equally distribute your weight with the least amount of energy. For any ballerina, balance should be as easy as breathing.

  I closed my eyes, shutting their voices out. I extended one leg, straightening it behind me, supporting my body on the other leg, then lifted my arms.

  And then I started dancing.

  There was no music. Just the natural rhythm of my body guiding me, taking control. I twirled, my toes pointe.

  Balance. Balance. Balance.

  Every muscle worked its way through the rhythm.

  Strength. Strength. Strength.

  The jeans I wore made it dif
ficult to execute each move perfectly, but that didn’t keep me from trying.

  More and more, I lost myself to the dancing, my body light, like the air around me. My hands grasped the end of the table, and I lifted my leg behind me. With every ounce of strength and flexibility, I performed the perfect arabesque penché. Every muscle pulled as I extended my knee up behind and above me. It was a classic ballet move, but one of the hardest to perfect. If it wasn’t for the goddamn jeans, it would be a perfect one hundred and eighty-degree penché.

  Sweat beaded on my forehead, and a few drops trickled down my spine. My chest was tight as I focused on my breathing, trying to keep my heartrate steady. Slowly, I brought my leg down, exhaling as my foot finally touched the ground.

  It felt good to dance again, even just for a few seconds. My body needed it to loosen up and shake off some of the stress it had endured the last few days. My mother might have been able to dictate my life, but not even her manipulative ways could make me fall out of love with dancing.

  I opened my eyes and let out a breath. Onyx and Neon stared at me, slack-jawed and stunned. Even Neon, who seemed like she could never shut up, didn’t say a word. But it was the way Onyx looked at me that had me frozen to the spot. That intense blue-eyed stare seemed to look right through me. In awe. Like he had been entranced by the way I just danced.

  I straightened, shyness flushing across my cheeks. “That is why I need to keep my weight in check.”

  There were no arguments from either of them. Only silence. Then I noticed Onyx’s expression as he stared over my shoulder—something between “oh, fuck” and “we’re fucked.”

  Neon, on the other hand, said the actual words as she stared behind me. “Oh, fuck.”

  It was him. I knew it. I felt him behind me, a chill slowly spreading down my spine while it felt like a furnace had been turned on underneath my skin. There was no need to see him to be able to feel his presence. A man like Granite brought a sense of authority and power whenever he entered a room…just like he did now.

  “Granite,” I whispered, closing my eyes.

  “Your room. Now.”

  “It’s not my room.”

  Neon snapped her gaze to me. “Not the time, Swan Lake,” she warned softly. But even though fear was weighing heavy inside my gut, anger was knocking against my skull.

 

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