Seed of Sin (The House of Creed Book 2)

by D. M. Burns

  Without time to comprehend good judgement, I reach out and clamp my hand around the back of Damien’s neck, power driving his forehead into the bar top with a ruthless impact that shakes the entire structure. When I pull him back, his ass is almost night-night. How’s that for southern sweetness, you dick dipping prick?

  Knowing that everyone now has their eyes locked to the show playing out, I pull him in close and growl into his ear, “I warned you, so this shit is on you, Damien. If you’re a smart man, you’ll train your thoughts to navigate away from anything sexually enticing when it comes to Brea. Pack your office up asshole, I just bought your percentage out two seconds ago.”

  “Oh, shit…” I hear Carson’s panicked voice in the background. “Move… Let me through.” The curious commotion isn’t far away. Carson is on the way to save the day.

  “Brogan… Man, come on.” Damien pleads. “It’s not like that.”

  “Fuck you, playboy,” I growl. “You stay away from her or I’ll climb inside that brainstem of yours painting a suicide outlook for the outside world. It’ll lead to an early death by your own unstable hands. Push me, motherfucker.”

  I thrust Damien away from me and he falls to the floor skidding across the wood before coming to a stop. He tries to sit up but holds tight to his busted-up forehead that’s bleeding all over the place.

  “Here… This is on the house.” Crellan nudges me in the arm with the Macallan I requested while smiling wide at the fucker sprawled out on his cellar floor.

  “Appreciate it, Haze.” I take the bottle from his hand. Hell, his bankroll won’t feel a blow from this kind gesture he’s offering me. “Sorry about this.” I wave my hand out at Damien.

  “Don’t be. These floors have seen far worse, Charles Manson style shit in his prime kind. The Macallan won’t cure your craving but it’ll numb it for a while.” He deadpans. This guy is speaking from experience but I have no time to chat it up. I’m not a god damn therapist. Even if I were, I have a haunting suspicion that wouldn’t calm Crellan’s demons.

  I move for the front door as Brealyn stares at me from across the room. Her eyes are wide with shock and equal amounts of confusion. I scrub my face and turn away from those blue sapphires. I want to kick the asshole in front of me for fucking up my chances to talk with her tonight. Carson is helping Damien to his feet as I turn back around.

  “Damien…” He looks at me, palm still covering that stitch job waiting to happen on his forehead. “What do you think of my new social skills so far?” I chuckle. “I’ll have your shit delivered to your home. Don’t show back up at The House of Creed again.” My footfalls move forward out the front door. Fuck him.

  I’ve been behind Brea ever since she left The Cellar. This isn’t a bad neighborhood per se but it’s not a safe one either for her to walk home alone in. She should know better. The urge to jerk her up and shake her until she listens is real. That sweet southern Georgia hospitality with your front door unlatched at night bullshit does not apply here in New York. The people that inhabit this place are cruel by nature and those are facts.

  She keeps looking over her shoulder as if she suspects that someone is following her, which I guess her gut instincts are on point. I smirk knowing at least she has intuition going for her.

  What I wasn’t expecting was a set of grimy hands to reach out from within a gap between the brick barriers of the buildings lining the sidewalk and abruptly suck her existence into the dark shadows. My movements become lightning quick as I sightlessly and soundlessly funnel my way through the opening.

  “Come on snowflake. Don’t be like that.” I hear one of the back-alley assholes snarl. Brea tries to jerk out of their hold they have on her arms. “We’re going to have a little fun with you.”

  “No, let her fight. I like rough fucks.” The other toothless crackhead sneers.

  “Gotta keep her mouth covered. We don’t need the bitch screaming for help.” The other slimy bastard in front of her whispers out. Brea’s beautiful eyes are wild and bouncing frantically from each perpetrator as their shit comments litter the alleyway with verbal trash.

  There’s a junkie on each side of her body, restraining her arms out against the wall. Taking her fighting right away. While the third slimy bastard stands in front of her, covering her mouth with his filthy shit covered hand. My eyes snap down to where he’s fumbling with his zipper with his other.

  When my eyes take in the entire visual of these criminal assholes surrounding her, a growl manifests from depths unknown inside of me. It grows and erupts from a very dark and evil place.

  “Did you hear that?” One of them croaks out as his geeked out eyes search the surroundings.

  The arctic cold sweeps in like a demonic ice blizzard taking shape around us, unseen but felt. The atmosphere drops in temperature by a good twenty degrees. Each chiseled-out asshole looks between each other trying to decipher if it’s a side effect from their drugged-out state of mind. Just call me their shit addiction withdrawal of the worse kind. This will be a high unlike any other they’ll ever experience. A deadly high with an overdose outcome.

  My footfalls can be heard loud and clear but an invisible evil entity with a fatal haunting is about to possess this place. When I step in, my fury explodes. I reach out and knock the literal swinging dick in front of Brea with a force that sends him soring to the far end of the building with a death on impact landing. No, coroner exam is needed for that conclusion. My sinister side is on the prowl. A hunt with a hazardous outcome.

  The other two tweaked out assholes immediately drop their hold on Brea. They’re about to bolt but that’ll do them no good. I know what their intentions we’re. I could hear they’re vile silent thoughts. And now, I’d like to play with their insides on display. I grab them both by the throat tossing them further into the dark alleyway. Their only way out is through me.

  My head snaps back to Brea. She should be fleeing from this shit scene but she’s motionless. She’s not speaking-nothing. Fuck, she’s in shock. When I hear heavy footsteps from behind me, I whip around to see my bastard brother coming my way. His eyes are seemingly pinned on me. He can’t possibly see me, no one can. Then I hear his silent thoughts.

  I know you can hear me. You know what to do with these fuckers. Handle it and finish up here. I’ve got her. I’m taking her back to her loft. My teeth grind together but truth be known, I want Brea out of here and she’s not capable of helping herself right now.

  Don’t touch her, you asshole. My anger is mounting but I really have no choice here.

  Would you rather she stands here watching the whimsical bodies mysteriously fly through the damn air? Or the grand finally that’s about to take shape? She’s already scared shitless. He tilts his head at me. Can the bastard see me?

  “Come on, sunshine. I got you, girl.” He whispers.

  He steps in and swoops her up in a bridal style hold then turns and saunters anyway. She’s still soundless, nothing. Shit… My attention snaps back to the two junkies that are dumb enough to think this shit has come to a climactic high. I chuckle because they’d be very wrong.

  Their hopes of a quick and easy escape were fucked when they put their hands on my butterfly. I smile as my eyes blare out like neon ice cubes infused with some much-needed rehabilitation. But there will be no restoration efforts here, oh-no.

  Tilting my head to the side, I concentrate on their disgusting lifeforce watching as I slowly drain their body dry of their shit existence. Their eyes hollow out and turn into dark decaying circles. The illicit light in their circular windows of ruin dims to nothing slowly. Their skin turns a blackened decrepit color and takes on an ashen form as their hair becomes brittle and white in the blink of an eye. The crackling sound of their frail frame indicates the deed of death is done.

  Their bodies become nothing more than a shell of rotting life decisions before my very eyes. The bitter winter air sweeps in blowing the evidence into tiny dust particles that float away with a shift of the wind. The
aftermath is much like their souls, nothing more than a fucking mess. I’m the Grim Reaper of final destinations and I have zero remorse over their outcome tonight. That’s right… I can lay your tainted soul to rest. My ultimate talent is death.

  Turning down the side street in front of Brea’s loft, I catch sight of Channing leaning against Mr. Maggio’s building. He looks about as rough as I feel. There are no victories to be found out of tonight’s events, but I worry about Brea’s state of mind. That’s the only thing I can bring myself to give a shit about. Those other three assholes are nothing more than a memory under a pile of empty clothes found in a dreary back alley. A heap of stagnated shit-stained clothes sums up their life in a nutshell. No fucks are given for them, just her.

  “So, invisibility, huh? You got all the good shit, baby brother.” He chuckles with no humor. He left out that whole extracting the evil out of your soul, but yeah that-asshole.

  “Admittedly, the fire thing is cool but fuck you., Channing.” I shrug on a smirk.

  “She’s asleep, Brogan. A little shaken up by the show and the fact that she could’ve been raped but she’ll be fine.” His voice sounds pained. “That woman is not getting on with a healthy life though. That’s fucking with me in a harsh way.” He grunts out.

  “Channing, what the fuck is this? A stroll down the yellow brick road of brotherly bullshit.” I tilt my head to the side, and he looks at me with that shit smirk he’s becoming famous for.

  “This is acceptance, you cold corporate boardroom asshole.” He waves his hand out dismissively. “Don’t get it confused though for defeat. Oh, hell no. She’s suffering and that’s not something I’m equipped to overlook, unlike yourself.” He grinds out. “Tell me… Have you figured out what true assets are yet?”

  “What the fuck is your hang-up with that question?” I growl.

  “You’ve got lessons to learn, Brogan.” He shakes his head.

  “You know nothing about me Channing. But you had knowledge of me long before I knew of you. You could’ve taken that proverbial leap to fill the gap years ago. Shit could’ve been different but for whatever reason, you flipped that fundamental middle finger up in the air where I was concerned. So, with that being said; I’ll tell you once again, you know nothing of the man that I am.” I simply stare at him.

  He pushes off the side of the building and steps into me. If I were him, I’d be cautious. Tonight would be really bad timing on his part to provoke my mood. Poking his prying eyes into my darker side might be a death sentence. Just ask the last three bastards a few streets over that wanted to take a look-see into the depths of my soul.

  “That maybe be true.” He looks off to the side then runs his hand through his hair before bringing those dark holes back to me. “When things go bad and her light fades away completely, I’m going to be there waiting for you and you had better hope that you’re lucky rabbit’s foot is by your side because you’ll need that red-headed ass-clown for luck to see you through.”

  “If you’re up to that challenge, I’ll gladly welcome it because without her I’m dead on the inside. You know she’s not your paired soul, right?” I shrug unaffected. “If so, this would never happen.”

  No truer words have been spoken by me. Those are facts. When he finds his other half that son-of-a-bitch will never walk away, ever. That’s not how this works for us. Believe me, I know. He shoulder checks me as he pushes on past in the direction of his Westinghouse luxury living.

  “Might want to go on in, rains coming, you prick.” He calls out over his shoulder.

  Then as if on cue the dark sky overhead opens up with a downpour from the heavens above that seems unkind in nature, cruel even. I twist in place with the pounding drops feeling like tiny pins stabbing at my naked skin left uncovered. I stare at my brothers back as it disappears into the wet coated shadows of the night.

  Well, I’ll be god damn. I run my palm over my drenched face and laugh out loud. That son-of-a-bitch can manipulate the weather. That’s fucking cool too.

  chapter 9

  channing

  “What was that back there?” She whispered. I smiled at Brea as I carried her through her loft and placed her in bed. Toeing her heels off, they hit the floor then she rolled over onto her side, expectant eyes on me.

  “Other than New York’s finest street trash that needs castrating, a life lesson of why you should call a friend to give you a ride from now on, yeah?” I asked. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah… Thanks to you. Once again, my boozy batman comes to my rescue. And to think, I thought you were mad at me.” She sat up and scooted next to me.

  “My feelings were hurt, not set in stone, sunshine.” I shrugged my shoulders. I was man enough to admit the truth to her. “But no matter how I might be feeling if you need me, I’ll come to you without question.” I winked at her.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings the other night with Tamera. That wasn’t my intentions at all.” She nervously fiddled with her hands casting her eyes down upon the motion. “You know I love you, right?”

  “Just not like you do him, yeah?” I placed my finger under her chin and guided those blue gems back to me. She gulped hard and nodded her head.

  “I can’t even explain the feelings I have for him. It wouldn’t give my heart’s emotional state justice. Words won’t tell the story properly with how I feel, Channing.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” I scrubbed my hand over my chin.

  “You’re my friend and that’ll never change, right?” She asked.

  “That’s a given.” I stroked her cheek and thought hard about my next words to her. “What if I told you that loving him comes with a price that takes away the sunshine?” I whispered.

  The smile that broke out across her face was almost sympathetic toward my concern for her. Then she tilted her head at me and giggled that careful sound that enveloped me in what seemed like a much-needed dose of tranquility. My insides immediately calmed and became steady, life-altering shift. It was her way of silently conveying that this was out of my control, but everything was as it should be.

  “Then I’d tell you that I’m okay with that and you should be too. Simply enjoy the luster it exudes now because as with every day that comes and goes, nightfall is an inevitable ending.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Don’t you understand? I didn’t get a choice in loving him. I’ve had dreams of it all, and we can’t change this.” She smirks. “You’ll see soon enough, Creed.” She winked at me.

  “Shit, sunshine…” Could she possibly know what I was referring too? Did she know…? “What are you talking about? You do know that dreams aren’t reality, right?” She shook her head no and giggled.

  “Whatever… I’m not telling you anything. You’ll see. But I need you to do me a favor and play nice with Brogan. That’s your brother.”

  “You’re a crazy lady.” I shook my head and smirked at her.

  “You love me for it… Those nasty buttholes back there have me feeling like I need a shower bad.” She bumped her shoulder into mine then bounced off the bed. Brea rummaged through her nightstand grabbing a change of clothes then stepped over to her coffee table. “Will you be here when I get out? Because National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation is coming on… It’s probably the last time we’ll get to watch it until Christmas time rolls around again.”

  “It’s a freaking classic.” I smiled at her and fell back onto her bed. She tossed the remote my way then headed for the bathroom. “Something instead of nothing, yeah?” I said.

  She turned around and tapped her index finger on her chin then said, “God intends for us to be so much more and last I checked, I’m a God-fearing woman that’s intent on following his lead, right?” She busted out laughing.

  I reached behind my head and tossed her pillow at her, but she scampered inside the bathroom slamming the door right before fluffy impact. Then I heard her scream out from the other side of that wooden barrier, “You’re my overgrown butthole grizzly bear.” Tha
t woman is a hot ass mess.

  After Brea came out of the shower and climbed up beside me, I waited until she was fast asleep before making my exit. She didn’t bring up the levitating body that became a fatality and one with the building's mortar from earlier tonight, thank fuck. Explaining that is not something that I want to attempt.

  No doubt my baby brother had an out of body experience with the other two deserving junkies. I felt his presence as soon as I slipped onto the scene. Death and destruction were present in the airtight space between those buildings.

  My insight took me there with a futuristic understanding that he’d be a frontrunner for evil foreplay. My main goal was to get Brea away from the show. But I felt him and that was something I’m not accustomed to. Brogan and I have a connection and that’s something that even I can’t deny.

  Walking away from his bullshit tonight actually felt like a weight off my shoulders. Maybe that sensation is simply because Brogan finally climbed his little demonic ass off my shoulders, creeping his way down my backside, and giving me a rest from his wicked hate for a while. It was deserving, I guess. She’s his… Either way, I believe I made the right decision.

  I let my head fall back allowing the rain to fall freely over my skin. Trickling like streams through my onyx hairline. Maybe it’ll wash all these asshole emotions away. My angry body temperature is cooling under the downpour. The steamrolling up off my clothes looks like a freshly pressed suit that’s just been pulled out from under an ironing table.

  The decorative torches lining the street flame to life as I pass them by. It’s my rage fueling the way. Brea is so consumed with that man that no matter what I do, I’m not getting through. I know I don’t have all the details. Patience is a virtue that I’m going to need to cling to right now.

  Fuck, I’ve seen horrific visions but the shit changes up sporadically. I’m starting to believe that I’m nowhere close to understanding the full picture. Skits and bits are all I have. I’m ill-prepared and underequipped. Proper knowledge for what’s to come is what I desperately seek. But if I’m not missing anything from my conversation earlier with Brea, it seemed like she knows what awaits her from a sandman perspective. I’m completely thrown by that too.