Kennedy (The Phoenix Club Girl Diaries #1)
Page 3
One of the older guys with a messy brown comb-over looking style tossed a fiver down on the table and scoffed. “I’ll give you that one,” he drawled. “But we both know you’re only good at this shit because you have big hands.”
I could sense the tension already beginning to build.
“That’s not true! This is about persi… persi… goddammit, what’s that word?”
“Precision, you dumb motherfucker!” another of them hooted with laughter.
I also wasn’t sure why Crow hadn’t stepped in and asked these assholes what the fuck they were doing here yet, but I also hadn’t seen him in the last half hour around the bar, so for now, I had to put up with them.
“Fine, double or nothing,” blondie protested. “Watch this!”
Before I could grab my tray off the table, a hand wrapped around my wrist and yanked me forward, slamming the edge of the table straight into my stomach. For a second, I was stunned, so I didn’t realize the fucking kid had my hand pressed flat to the table while his two buddies cackled with laughter while he was raising the knife over the top.
I looked up, and my heart stopped.
Holy shit, he was going to stab me.
“Stop!” I screamed, tugging against the hold he had on me. Which only looked to annoy him as his eyes shot up, narrowed and angry. “Stop it!”
“You move, bitch, you’re gonna end up with a blade through your hand, and you’re gonna lose me some money.”
The kid suddenly wasn’t a kid anymore.
And I knew why.
His drugs were wearing off.
No, there was no way in hell. I tugged again, drawing his attention back to me. Then without a second thought, pulling back my fist and driving it straight into his fucking nose. He screamed, letting my hand go and dropping the knife in his other hand. With the force as I pulled back, I went flying onto the floor, pain shooting up my spine.
“You stupid fucking bitch,” he screamed, leaping out of the booth with one finger pointed at me and his other hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “You stupid, stupid fucking bitch.”
“Boys, boys, boys,” a deep rumble called over the messy situation, and like he was there the whole time, Crow stepped in between us with his hands raised. “Now, let’s all just take a breath, sit down, have another round on me.”
“One of your bitches broke my fucking nose, Crow,” the kid hissed, his eyes flicking between where I was still sprawled on the floor and where Crow was trying to calm the situation. “I’m thinking I may have to take my fucking business elsewhere.”
Crow laughed softly.
Laken appeared beside me, her hands grasping at my arm and attempting to help me to my feet.
“Let me have a quick chat with Kennedy and see if we can’t come up with some way to make it up to you,” Crow responded diplomatically. His whole tone and demeanor was surprising, especially toward three guys, who, by no means, belonged in a place like this and had just tried to maim a piece of his property.
“Fine,” the kid huffed, his fingers still pinching his nose while his other two buddies chortled to themselves.
Crow spun around, his eyes instantly finding me and lighting on fire. I should have known he’d never take my side. “Kennedy, a word in the hall,” he snapped, not bothering to wait for me to move, his hand grabbing hold of my arm as he rushed by and almost pulling me off my feet again, then dragged me to the hallway that leads out the back to the offices.
“Crow…” I started, but before I could explain, his fingers twisted in my hair, and he wrenched my head back. My eyes started to water, and I struggled to keep my balance.
“Those men over there,” Crow growled in my ear, his free hand pointing across the bar at the three assholes who I’d just managed to escape, leaving one with a bloody nose and the other two looking like they were about ready to skin me alive. “They’re some new customers of mine. They’re all rich bastards with expensive habits.”
Right.
I should have known.
They were money.
And I’d just pissed them off.
Which now meant Crow might lose their business.
But what the fuck could I have done? Blondie had tried to play tic-tac-toe with a steak knife and my fingers.
“I—” Before I could say anything more, Crow pushed my head forward. I didn’t have time to brace myself before he drove my forehead into the hallway wall, shaking the photos that hung a few feet away. I squeezed my eyes shut and tears leaked out as I struggled to fight the vomit that was stirring due to the immense pain raining through my brain.
I pressed my hands against the wall trying to stop my swaying body, knowing that if I fell, Crow wouldn’t pick me up, and he’d simply use the opportunity to kick me while I was down. His hand slipped from my hair trailing down the side of my face and curving around my jaw.
“Fucking look at me, Kennedy,” he hissed. I could feel his face, it was only a breath away from mine. I forced my eyes open, blinking past the tears and the way everything seemed to be spinning, and trying to focus on his eyes. They were foggy and dark, the color almost black and the whites muddy and bloodshot.
He was high.
As a fucking kite.
I felt my entire body sink, already giving up.
Crow loved to break me down and crush every bit of fight inside me, but it was when he was high that he really loved to get creative in his destruction.
“You’re gonna go back over to that fucking table,” he whispered, his hot breath reeking of cigarettes and onions. The smile that curled up in the corner of his mouth had me pulling away, knowing instantly this night was going to be one he was going to force me to remember, and for all the wrong fucking reasons. “And you’re gonna show our guests some hospitality.”
At first, it didn’t click.
“I’ll apologize,” I murmured sharply through gritted teeth, trying not to break down, trying to convince myself I could put up with those three assholes for the next few hours and take whatever they could throw at me.
They wouldn’t break me.
This wouldn’t break me.
But Crow knew I didn’t understand what he was trying to say, and being the sadistic bastard he was, he wasn’t the type to let me go without seeing the devastation and pain on my face when I realized just what he meant.
“You give them whatever the fuck they want,” he ordered, his eyes drifting down over my body. It was a look I’d felt a million times, something I’d numbed myself to, but this was different. “And when they’re done fucking you, they’re gonna be in an even better mood, and men in a good mood buy more fucking drugs.”
Dirty.
That was the only way to describe how I felt.
Like my skin was crawling, and that there was no way I was ever going to be able to get it clean again. I’d been doing this for a long time. I’d known Crow and his ways for a long time, practically inside fucking out. I should have known by now never to be surprised by anything this man does.
“And then when you’re done, you’re gonna come back to my office, and we’re gonna have a chat about why the fuck you were late for your shift,” he hissed in my ear. It was at that point where I knew there was a possibility I wasn’t going to be walking out of there tonight.
Maybe this time he’d actually kill me.
Unfortunately, I had one thing I needed to live for—my little sister, Brooklyn.
So, I’d spend another night in hell.
And tomorrow, I’d come back and do it all over again.
REPO
“Do you have any fucking idea what you’re asking me right now?” I growled, looking at my little brother as if the aliens had finally landed and taken over his body, and on top of that, I was being fucking punked.
“You think I haven’t thought about this?” he challenged. “This is the only thing I’ve been able to think about for the past few weeks as I’ve watched that kid slowly and surely self-destruct.”
Jo
siah hefted his body out of his chair, his face cringing at the effort, making it seem like his limbs were made of iron. That was how much this was weighing on him. Not only was he mentally struggling, his body was feeling the exhaustion too.
He began to pace back and forth behind his desk. My brother was a counselor for one of the most exclusive private schools in Dallas—Cagehill North Preparatory Academy.
I knew the place far too well if we were being honest because this was the same school we’d attended as kids. I would not be exaggerating if I were to say that being back here was already making me feel like there was some kind of snake slithering up my spine, its fangs dripping in venom as it searched for the most appropriate piece of flesh to sink them into.
It made my skin crawl, and it made me constantly feel like I was on edge, ready to kill anything that even stepped one inch out of line.
It would be easy for anyone to think I was blowing shit out of proportion. For some, this was just a school, a group of buildings, a place where kids grow into adults and where they learn and date and find out things about themselves they may have never known.
For me, though, this was the place where I met the man who molded me into a fucking monster.
“Micah?” Jo questioned, drawing my attention quickly back to him.
We were in his office on the school campus, but it was almost completely deserted, bar a handful of teachers who obviously had nothing better to do with their lives. They hadn’t exactly given me a warm welcome as Jo had led me through the school grounds to where he had his setup. I didn’t expect them to. And to be completely honest, I wouldn’t even be surprised to see red and blue flashing lights show up in the next ten to twenty minutes.
“I’m listening,” I grumbled, adjusting my body again in the small seat and leaning forward.
My little brother’s face sunk. “We should have done this somewhere else. I didn’t consider that after all these fucking years this place still haunted you.”
“Doesn’t haunt me,” I denied, a little too quickly. My club cut creaked as I rolled my shoulders trying to act like this was just another day. “I don’t believe in ghosts.” My hands gripped the wooden arms of the chair I was sitting in. It was the only thing grounding me at that moment when all I wanted to do was leap up and get the fuck out of there.
“You know what I mean.” Josiah sighed heavily as he came around to the front of his desk. He sat on the edge and scrubbed across his face with his hand. “I can’t sit around and let this fucking happen again, Micah. Not when this time I have the ability to stop it. I refuse to let another kid have to suffer what we fucking went through.”
“I agree.” I nodded sharply. “So give me the name, and I handle it.”
“No. I want to speak to the club,” he argued, his eyes becoming stern.
“Why?” I snapped back, not liking the fact my own brother was trying to go over my head.
“Because I don’t want this to fall on you. Not this time, not again.”
I pushed on the arms of the chair and forced myself onto my feet. “How many times have we been over this shit? No fucking guilt. It wasn’t your fault.”
“And it wasn’t yours either!”
I was heaving in several deep breaths by this point. My past was something I left right where it fucking needed to be, in the goddamn past. If I thought about it too much, I started to think about things that had no business wandering around in my brain. Things like how not a single person knew what was going on, or whether I was the first or just one of many.
The one thing I did know for sure was that Josiah was the last. The moment I walked in on our pastor with my thirteen-year-old brother and his pants down around his ankles and his belt around Josiah’s neck, I was never letting that man leave or giving him an opportunity to deny what he’d just done.
Or what he’d already done to me years before.
What happened after that?
It’s all black.
A psychologist once told me he thought there was a part of my brain I’d developed like a vault, and it was where I stored memories of trauma, abuse, and in this case, the moment that I murdered a man who hurt the people I cared about.
I don’t remember these things. I just know there are things about me that are weird, awkward, and I guess maybe a little sadistic.
My dislike of people putting their hands on me being one. And the other being the ease in which I can take a life as long as it’s justified. I know they are a result of what I’d been through, but if you asked me to explain exactly what that was, I couldn’t. My brain wouldn’t let me.
“This is serious,” I finally grated out, inhaling deeply through my nose. “You wanna talk to the club about it, and not just let me deal with this on my own. That changes things, you realize. That becomes a club decision, and what you’re asking is not something they will take lightly.”
It’s not something I even knew they would consider at all.
Josiah may have been my brother, but if he wanted to take me out of this equation, that changed the dynamics of his request.
The Brothers by Blood MC weren’t exactly in the business of being hitmen. The things we did, the lives we took, weren’t random. They were purposeful, they had intent, and more often than not, they were deserved. Murder had its place in an outlaw lifestyle but only when you were smart about it.
“I ain’t gonna let another motherfucker get away with this,” he said, this time more forcefully, with more conviction. Josiah was stronger than many people gave him credit for. He was softly spoken, he was kind, and he would give you the shirt off his back if he thought you needed it more than he did. But he shouldn’t be underestimated because compassion didn’t equal weakness. “We fucking made it. Maybe not unscarred, but we came out the other side of this shit stronger than we were before. And if I have to kill him myself, I’ll make sure that these kids make it through, too.”
Goddammit! Why the hell did we both have to get those stubborn-ass genes.
We walked out through the school to the teachers’ parking lot where my bike was parked.
“I’m gonna head over the club and see if I can talk to Digger,” I told Josiah as I snatched my helmet and pressed it down on the top of my head. “I’ll see what he thinks of the situation.”
I could tell it wasn’t exactly the answer that Josiah was looking for, but he had to understand there was a way things were fucking done in this lifestyle, and walking into an MC looking to make someone disappear didn’t exactly go down well, no matter who the fuck you were.
“I thought you were gonna come for lunch?” He frowned as I climbed on my bike and reached for the keys.
I gritted my teeth. “We both know with the mood I’m in right now, that’s not a good idea.”
This had pulled on too many memories, and I could feel parts of my brain screaming at me just to get the hell out of there before people started asking questions. Josiah merely nodded as I started the engine, and my ride rumbled to life, the sound of vibrations echoing and bouncing back off the buildings around us.
The moment was short-lived, though, because before I could throw it into gear and get the hell out of that place, red and blue lights lit up the buildings around us. A police car crept toward us stopping right in the middle of the parking lot as if I couldn’t leave by just driving around him.
I switched off my engine and sat back. “The people you work with are dicks,” I told my brother.
He cringed, but it was the heavy-knitted brow that told me he was about to let shit loose if these guys decided to be assholes.
They let the lights continue to swirl as they climbed out, one from the driver's side and one from the passenger’s side. I learned a long time ago that when a call came in about the club, they always sent two officers. I wasn’t sure why given that if we were getting arrested, we usually knew exactly why, and they never had any trouble taking us away. But I guess it made them feel a little better.
“Repo, been a long ti
me since I’ve seen you around here.”
I squinted as they walked forward recognizing one of these guys instantly. Little fucker had tried to arrest me once when he was a rookie, and instead of taking his partner’s advice and clipping the cuffs on and letting me get in the car myself, he decided to try and be the big man and push me toward the police car. And then when that wasn’t enough, he stuck his goddamn hand on my head to get me in. All he ended up getting was my head connecting with his stupid- ass nose.
Even as he walked toward me I could tell he was a little apprehensive, his hand resting on his fucking gun like he was a big man.
“Yeah, long time no see. But I’m just trying to leave, man,” I grumble, looking to his partner who seemed like she was annoyed she even had to stop.
“What are you doing back here?” he asked, narrowing his gaze at me.
“Planning a murder,” I offered sarcastically, rolling my eyes. My brother backhanded me in the shoulder—the only motherfucker that would ever get away with it without getting a fist in his face.
“He’s here to see me,” Josiah growled, stepping forward and glaring at me, telling me to shut the fuck up. “Now why don’t you guys go and hunt down some actual criminals.”
“Come on, Davis,” the female officer urged, grabbing her partner and pulling him back toward the car while murmuring under her breath, “Stop being so fucking psycho, you’re gonna get us both in shit for harassment.”
I could see in his eyes he didn’t agree. He wanted something on me, he wanted to take me down because I made him look like a fucking joke.
I grinned as he backed away. “Maybe I’ll see you next time I’m in town, Davis.”
Josiah and I just stood and watched the police car back away, neither of us speaking until it had pulled off out of sight down the road.
“You couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Josiah hissed at me while shaking his head.
“People expect me to be an asshole. I just give them what they want,” I told him with a shrug. “What’s the fun in looking like this if people aren’t gonna run the other way when they see me.”
I started my bike for a second time, feeling a little more relaxed. “You know what, maybe I could go for some food,” I called over the deep rumble of my bike. Or maybe it was actually my stomach.